


i do it for the love

by literato



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Art Student Harry Styles, Drama Student Louis, Dubious Content (not explicit), Family Issues, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Light Angst, M/M, Roommates, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, Strangers to Lovers, tomlinshaw friendship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-13
Updated: 2018-07-14
Packaged: 2019-03-30 20:53:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 49,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13959798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/literato/pseuds/literato
Summary: “You drive me crazy, it’s ridiculous.” Louis whispers, “I love you.” He says, admitting it to himself as well. He’s loved Harry since he began squeezing himself into Louis’ miserable life, “But right now I just feel like I’m holding you back from everything you’ve ever wanted.”oran au where Louis Tomlinson and Harry Styles are roommates who strive and struggle to achieve everything they've always wanted (including each other.)





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Let's hope for the best on this one. Please enjoy! It's been a while since I last wrote and since it's summer i HOPE i getto finish this one jesus.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own any of the boys.
> 
> Warnings: there's a part where two parties are drunk and end up doing something and having a misunderstanding after and im gonna say it's dubious consent. It's not written in explicit detail though. And flashbacks contain verbal abuse.
> 
> Title: from Sam Smith's 'Money on My Mind'

**CHAPTER ONE**

  
Seven o’clock in the morning, the shitty bed doing no justice to his back, and Louis is getting bombarded with series of knocks on his already creaky door. He grunts as he pushes himself up on the elbows, “Who is it?!”

  
“Amanda.” A serious voice comes through, “Now open this door or I won’t refix the hinges.”

  
Louis sighs loudly and picks himself up, not bothering to fix his hair as he unlocks the door and swings it open, “Your threats are always empty, sweetheart.” He says, crossing his arms. Before he can say anything more, he sees a new, unfamiliar face behind his landlady, “Who’s this?”

  
“Harry Styles.” Amanda introduces poorly, “Harry, this is Louis Tomlinson, your roommate.”

  
“Wait, what?” Louis asks. It’s seven in the morning, for fuck’s sake.

  
“You’ve been making... poor payments for a long time, Lou.” She shrugs, a smirk playing on her lips, “Not the best you can do, but at least you have a roommate so you can pay actual money.” She walks away after that, leaving no room for protests.

  
Louis only glares, his fists clenching before he remembers, “Right.” He says, turning to look at the boy. He’s got pale skin, is what Louis first notices, and those pink, full lips and those nervous green eyes. He’s a little tall, too, and he has curls on his head, spiraling down until his ear. He looks really... out-of-place. He’s wearing some tight black jeans and a pastel pink shirt.

  
“Harry Styles.” He says, not bothering to move out of the way or let this Harry in, “You do know this wouldn’t be your ideal apartment.”

  
“Better than being in the streets.” Okay, that’s a real deep voice.

  
Louis clears his throat, “There’s no bed. Just one bed, and you’re gonna take the couch if ever.”

  
Same response, now with a more determined look in those eyes.

  
“The door hinges break every couple of weeks.” Louis raises an eyebrow.

  
“As long as someone doesn’t break in then I don’t see the problem.” Harry says, raising his nose a bit higher. But then he sees Louis’ non-faltering determination and begins to plead, “Please? I’ve been homeless for like.. almost a month and I’ve just gotten money but this was all I could afford.”

  
“Well, I don’t accept ignorant comments so keep them to yourself the moment you step in.” Louis finally steps out of the way, leaving Harry on his own as he walks back to his room and dives back into his bed.

  
“Uh..” Harry’s voice says, still deep as ever, but feeling so small, “Where do I put my clothes?”

  
Louis tells him lazily, “A suitcase can really boost your resourcefulness, I reckon.” He might’ve heard Harry huff out a laugh. He ignores it, but then his alarm is blaring out in his ears before he has a chance to soak in his bed. He groans again and stands up, turning off his alarm before wandering into the kitchen.

  
Which really doesn’t look like one. It's a simple sink with cupboards, a kitchen table on the side and a refrigerator pushed on the corner.

He cringes at how organized this boy is. He’s got his shirts on one side of his suitcase, his trousers on the other, this, that.

  
Louis gets himself a glass of water as Harry finishes before the latter stands up and faces Louis, “Where’s the bathroom?”

  
Louis nods towards the general direction. He has to scoff at the way Harry carried tioletries with him. He only jumps a little when he hears a squeal and the door swing open later.

  
Louis already knows why, though, “Unless it’s a snake or a bear, don’t whine.”

  
“I—“ A panicked-looking Harry says. He then slowly relaxes and exhales, “Sorry. I just..” He wordlessly walks back to the bathroom.

  
Louis takes the chance to change his clothes, pack his bag, before he grabs his keys. He only assumes that Harry already has a spare one before he’s leaving the apartment and leaving the boy on his own.

  
He arrives at the park forty-minutes before nine, and he spends the next thirty snoozing on a bench as he hugs his guitar close to him. The park is mostly full of people around this time, especially at weekends, and he had played more times to count to earn the right of marking his territory on one corner of the parker under this big tree.

  
He sets up the case of his guitar in front of him and leans against the tree casually. He practices his vocals, because whatever at least he can do one thing right, before he begins.

  
He plays a total of four songs when he starts to get people’s attention. They watch him almost in awe, smiling and nudging their lovers as he sings the sappiest love songs. He takes a break at noon, buying himself a corndog from his earnings before pocketing the other ones to safety.

  
He plays all day until his fingers are full of callouses and his throat beginning to scratch. One fellow decides to be nice and offer him a bottle of water to which Louis gladly accepts. The park gradually empties at around eight, as it closes around nine, and Louis packs up his stuff before making his way back home.

  
\--

  
Harry’s managed to drag a chair by their only window, leading to the emergency stairs plastered on the side of the building, when Louis comes back. The lad was reading, his feet propped up against the sill and seemingly focused.

  
Louis just passes by him and enters his room. He changes out of his shirt, which has gone all sweaty from all the singing. He puts it on his small hamper in the corner before walking over to his dresser.

  
“Uh.. Louis, is it?” Comes Harry’s voice from the livingroom.

  
Louis pulls a shirt on, “What?”

  
“Do you know where the closest food chain is?” Harry asks. When Louis turns, he’s standing on the doorway, looking timid.

  
“There’s one outside, just go through the alley beside the building and you should be able to see them.” Louis informs simply.

  
“Okay. I’m gonna buy dinner.” Harry says. He leaves as soon as he says it and Louis lies back on his bed after closing the door. And then there’s a knock seconds after, “Louis?”

  
If there’s one thing Louis hates, it’s getting out of bed. He does it, anyway, cracking the door open, “What?”

  
“You don’t want to eat dinner?” Harry asks, and he looks genuinely curious, “Well, unless you already ate from.. where you’ve been.”

  
“Thanks for the sympathy, Curly, but I can handle no food for three days.” Louis closes the door in his face, and then he hears, muffled, “O-Okay, then.”

  
Louis tries not to peek as the aroma of food wafted through the apartment later.

  
\--

  
Classes next morning, and both lads are getting ready. After Louis showers, Harry hops on quickly. He seems restless this morning, but Louis only tends to his own business as he grabs his bag and stuffs it with his things. He unplugs his phone from the charger and sees that he has new text messages. He deletes them all.

  
He sips at his tea, knowing it’ll help him go through the whole morning, or day. He’s about to leave when Harry yelps from inside the shower.

  
Louis frowns, “What?”

  
A muffled “Wait!” comes from inside the bathroom, and soon Harry is emerging from it in only a towel and soaking wet.

  
Louis groans, “You’re gonna get the floor wet!”

  
“Sorry! Sorry!” Harry steps back inside the bathroom but peeks his head out, which does absolutely nothing, “W-Where are you going?”

  
“School.” Louis says impatiently.

  
“What school? College?” Harry asks, and his eyes are glimmering with this unexplainable hope.

  
“Yes. London U.” Louis rolls his eyes, “For—“

  
“--Drama and Arts?!” Harry almost squeals, eyes wide.

  
Louis crosses his arms, “Don’t tell me you go to that uni.” He doesn't recognize or remember if there's a possibility that they managed to bump into each other before.

  
Harry only shoots him a grin, “Just—Just wait, alright? I’ll be right out.” He comes out under a minute later, but Louis’ convinced he’s aged ten years waiting, and he’s still mostly wet because of his hair. Louis cringes.

  
“May I come with you?” Harry says and, thankfully, wraps his hair with his towel, “I also study there, as an art student.” When Louis only turns around to leave, he says, “Just one time, please! I don’t kno—“

  
“Just finish getting ready.” Louis snaps, “I’m waiting downstairs.” He leaves, then, hearing Harry’s hurried footsteps as he takes the stairs. He curses when he sees Amanda by the exit, and he tries to duck from her gaze but to no avail.

“Oh, Louis.” She says, voice smooth, “I’ve missed you.”

  
Louis didn’t, “Right.” He pulls away from her, then, resuming his act of escape. Thankfully though, he doesn’t have to wait long before Harry’s out. His hair is still wet but not dripping anymore. He’s also dressed in some black jeans and a white graphic tee with rainbows on it.

  
Louis walks wordlessly, Harry following closely behind.

  
While they wait for the bus, Harry asks, “How far is LUDA from here?”

  
”Thirty minutes bus ride.” Louis supplies. When the bus stops in front of them, he hops in, “Five minute walk.” He adds as they sit, letting Harry have the window seat.

  
“In what year are you in?” Harry asks, looking out the window.

  
“Last.” Louis answers.

  
“Ah.” Harry nods slowly, “I’m in the second.” He says, “I’m 19.”

  
“Good for you, kid.” Louis says.

  
It’s supposed to be a conversation-breaker, but this lad is a determined one, “Are you an art student as well?”

  
“Drama.”

 

Harry’s eyes light up, “You do like.. theatre and stuff? Acting, singing?”

 

“That’s what we do in drama, Curly.”

  
Harry blushes and tries to hide it with a cough, “Well, in Arts, we... do art, I suppose.”

  
Louis grumbles under his breath, “Very informative.”

  
“You know what I mean.” Harry murmurs, cheeks still burning from embarrassment.

  
Louis decides to have sympathy for this lad. He’s not a dick, after all, just... constantly angry, “And I heard you spend tons of money in art classes. ‘s why you got broke?”

  
“Um no.” Harry says, “I’ve had the materials long before. They’re mostly gifts but still... it’s a lot.” He sideglances louis, fiddling with his fingers on his lap, “And no.. that’s not how I got broke.”

  
Well, shit, Louis just made it all awkwardly personal, “If it makes you feel better, you don’t look...” He takes a look at the lad, “.. broke.”

  
“I don’t look broke.” Harry repeats, “Um.. thanks? You, too.”

  
“I’m not taking that as a compliment.”

  
Harry shifts awkwardly, “Um.. sorry?”

  
“I’m kidding, Curly.” Louis deadpans.

  
“You’re a confusing person.” Harry looks at him, wide-eyed.

  
Louis shrugs. They spend the next minutes quiet. They pay after getting off the bus, and Harry bombards the older lad for more questions, “Do you know some bar restaurants around here?”

  
“No.” Louis says simply. If there’s any place he knows elated to that type, it’d be pubs with shitty beer and a sweaty atmosphere.

  
“Oh.” Harry says. He keeps looking around, but eventually those eyes land back on Louis, “Do you work?”

  
“I don’t.” Louis says, “I sing.”

  
“Sing...” Harry ponders for a bit.

  
“In the streets.” Louis finishes.

  
“Ooh, like Ed Sheeran?” Harry smiles, “He was homeless when he was a kid and he sings in front of arenas and such. And look at him now.”

  
“Yeah, but I just sing.” Louis shrugs. He turns to a left and sees the uni up ahead.

  
When they finally reach school, Harry asks, “What time will your classes end?”

  
“Why?” Louis asks, itching to go.

  
“We can go.. together.” Harry shrugs, “I don’t know the way back.”

  
“It’s the same.” Louis deadpans, “But whatever. I get out at five.”

  
Harry looks reluctant, but he agrees eventually, “O-Okay.” He then waves before turning around, finding his own way around the campus. Louis feels like he’s taking care of a younger brother.

  
Louis spends the rest of his day focusing on his studies. They’d be doing an impromptu monologue, once again, but this time with little twists, as said by their professor. Louis starts to think of something as soon as he finishes the day.

  
As agreed upon, Harry’s standing by a wall in the lobby where he separated from Louis. He’s waiting patiently, looking around and bouncing lightly on his heels. Louis sighs and approaches him, “Hey.”

  
“Hi.” Harry smiles, “I uh.. I have a question.”

  
“Shoot.”

  
“Do you know a Torro Restaurant and Bar here?” He asks. He looks worried.

  
Louis scratches at his head, “I don’t wander around much but I’m sure you’ll find it if you ask around.” He shrugs.

  
“Okay.” Harry accepts the unhelpful answer, “Let’s uh.. Let’s go.”

  
They spend walk and the bus ride in silence. When they go home, Louis changes out his shirt before grabbing a few bills from his pocket. He watches discreetly as Harry does the same in the livingroom, grabbing a what seems like a uniform from his large suitcase.

  
Louis grabs his keys and his guitar, starting his night.

  
~○~

  
“Styles, you’re late.” Billy, Harry’s boss, said as Harry entered the back room. The bar is already at its busiest time, and Harry’s scrambling to put his things in his locker and grab his uniform.

  
“Sorry.” Harry says hurriedly, “I moved into a new place and I got lost.. for like, a few minutes.” He remembers the directions he asked from a coworker, but then absolutely missed when the bus drove right past the restaurant.

  
Billy sighs, almost used to Harry’s reasons. But thankfully he understands the lad because he’s just a kid after all, “Alright, alright. But now you know where, don’t do it again next time.”

  
Harry nods determinedly, still clutching at his uniform, “Yes, of course.” After that, he excuses himself to go to the employee’s bathroom, changing quickly.  
Once dressed in his white polo and black vest, Harry’s ready to go. He makes his way all around the right side of the place with his notepad and pen in hand, gathering orders before bounding to the counter to pin those notes up in order. One by one the food gets served, and Harry does his best to overshadow his clumsiness to get the food to the customers properly, and without a single fall which can cause a serious fall in his salary as well, and dignity.

  
Soon enough, a singer makes his way on the stage and Harry can’t help but stop cleaning a table to admire it. Well, the stage at least. For the longest time, he’s wanted to sing in that stage. It’s the only reason he applied to his job, but he only got to be a waiter. Not that he’s complaining.

  
He finishes his job every time with a late night, so with the new environment and everything, he should be extra careful. He sighs out a relief when he finally gets to the bus, before he plugs his ear phones on for the rest of the ride.

  
He quietly unlocks the door before sliding into the flat. It’s a little before eleven and Louis should be sleeping, unless he’s out working or something. But either way, Harry doesn’t want to risk waking the guy; he’s already grumpy most of the time.

  
Fate contradicts his actions, as always, as his phone rings loudly and effectively bounces around the flat. He fumbles around, eventually answering the call and pressing it to his ear, “Hello?” He whispers.

  
“Harry, baby.” His mum, Anne’s, voice laughs on the other line and Harry visibly deflates, “Why are you whispering?”

  
“Oh uh..” Harry closes his eyes for a few seconds to avoid panicking, “’m in my dorm. Roommate’s already asleep.”

  
“Oh, and why aren’t you, love?”

  
“Was uh.. I was busy.” Harry stammers, “With a project. Gotta do a collage or something.”

  
She accepts the lie easily, “Well, don’t tire yourself out too much, sweetheart. I’m sure you’ll do great either way.”

  
Harry smiles, and he can’t help but be sad, “Thanks, Mum.”

  
“Okay, then. I’ll let you go.” Anne says. She sounds sleepy herself, “Just wanted to see how my boy is doing. Stay safe, okay? I love you.”

  
Harry bites down on his lip, “I love you, too, Mum.” She hangs up after that, and Harry’s filled with the overwhelming need to call her back, and go home.  
He takes deep breaths to calm himself down, but then he jumps as soon as he hears a sudden creaky noise.

  
It’s Louis, and he just came from the shower. He’s clad in only some worn out sweatpants as he wipes his hair with a towel, “Just got back?”

  
Harry clears his throat and nods tightly, “Yeah. Night shift. You?”

  
Louis shrugs meaninglessly before he crosses the short distance between his room and the bathroom. Without a word, he enters his room and shuts the door. Harry then takes the opportunity to tend to himself this time. He cleans out his bag, and he remembers Billy gave him a takeout box, which is a very nice deed, really, but Harry’s eaten dinner already. And he can’t waste food.

  
He tries to take a bite from the pasta, then gives up. His stomach can only handle so much, and with the lack of adequate food for the past few weeks, his stomach and appetite had adjusted already.

  
Harry glances at Louis’ door, before he stands up and makes his way over. Knocking on a door seems like the hardest thing ever, but only because Harry’s (very partially) scared of the grumpy, snippy person on the other side.

  
He knocks, and then speaks, “Uh.. have you eaten dinner yet?” No answer, “I have like.. a few leftovers here from the restaurant. Well, not like leftovers, but..” he blushes to himself because what the fuck, Harry, “Uh.. it’s chicken and some salad.” Still no answer, “O-Okay. I’ll just leave it in the kitchen.”

  
The door opens abruptly, making Harry jump. He doesn’t drop the box, though, thankfully. Louis stands there still looking wide-awake. He looks confused, “What were you saying?”

  
Harry feels his cheeks burn. Thankfully the flat isn’t all that bright. Instead of saying anything, he hands the box to Louis before bounding to the bathroom.

  
The next morning Louis is gone early for school, but there’s a paper crumpled in Harry’s hand when the latter wakes up saying a simple ‘thanks’.

  
\--

  
“And like Matt’s the bass, Sam on drums, Tom on the lead. It’ll be sick.” Nick babbles on endlessly as he accompanies Louis at lunch, “They’re doing gigs all around the city like pubs, bars—“

  
Louis tunes out at that point. He continues to eat his sandwich, trying to be desperately obvious that he’s not interested in any of Nick’s stories. But to no avail. He scans around the cafeteria, and out of nowhere he sees Harry. He’s sitting with two blokes, simply chatting and eating. But then he looks over their shoulder and catches Louis’ eyes. Louis tries not to smirk when the lad blushes a bit, does a poor job at hiding it before smiling. Louis only nods at him before turning back to Nick.

  
“So, what’d you think?” Nick asks, mouth full.

  
“’Bout what?”

  
Nick sighs exasperatedly, “Tom’s band is playing at this place near school tomorrow night.”

  
“And you want me to go instead of earn my money?” Louis says, quirking his eyebrows. If there’s one thing he keeps Nick for, is that he’s (actually) trustworthy, and well, he’s been Louis’ best pal. Despite his ridiculous aura sometimes.

  
“It’s one night, Lou.” Nick says as if it’s the easiest thing ever, “I’ll treat you for everything.”

  
Louis rolls his eyes, “I can pay my own shit, Grimshaw.”

  
“Then please do.” Nick shrugs, “Come on, you’re young! You have plenty of time to be the next Ed Sheeran.”

  
Louis is sparked with something and he looks over back to Harry’s table before grumbling, “Why does everybody keep saying that?”

  
The rest of his day involves more acting practices and spontaneous monologues, and a casting of a mini play. Louis ha been in a few plays before, but they’re all not that big and he only got the lead once.

  
He catches the bus right on time, and the vehicle waits on the bus stop, waiting foe the passengers to fill most of the seats in. Louis takes the time to nap, resting his temple on the window and crossing his arms. The bus moving wakes him up from his light sleep, and he instinctively looks up.

  
To his surprise, Harry’s sat on the seat by the aisle across from him. He’s carrying a bunch of things, too, which looks like a stack of paintings and such. He seems to have seen Louis by the way he’s trying so hard not to glance over and keeps his eyes tensely straight ahead.

  
“Harry.” Louis says. Harry blinks and looks at him. Louis arches an eyebrow before flicking his eyes down to the empty seat beside him.

  
Harry hesitates for only a few moments before he nods and adjusts his grip on the artworks. He transfers himself flawlessly, but as soon as he sits the pieces of canvases falls to the floor of the bus with small thuds. He winces and bends down to pick them up. Louis sighs and helps, grabbing three pieces and putting it on his own lap while Harry manages to balance the remaining five on his.

  
“What’s all this?” He can’t help but ask.

  
“My pieces.” Harry says, smiling a bit to himself, “Our professor told us we need to take them home now because it’s crowding his office.”

  
Louis has plucked one painting from his lap. It’s a painting of what seems like an anonymous guy with a very colorful flower crown. Besides that, a gradient-rainbow cloth is also draped on the lad.

  
“Meaningful.” Louis says, still admiring the work. He’s not an artsy person himself, but he likes what his eyes are seeing. He glances at Harry.

  
“Y-Yeah uh..” Harry visibly gulps, “I did that.. when we were asked to do something that best describes us.”

  
“Art.” Louis says, then adds on, “And well, you’re a pretty artsy person.”

  
“Thank you.” Harry smiles.

  
They arrive at their apartment complex, and by the time they reach the top, Harry’s breathing has gone hard. He unceremoniously drops his pieces on the couch and catches himself on the floor by his suitcase, “I hate walking up those steps everyday.”

  
Louis neatly puts the three artworks he’s been clutching the whole time on the floor beside Harry, “Well, I can’t say the same since I requested it.”

  
Harry shoots up at that, “Request? You can request a room here?”

  
Louis shrugs and heads off to his room to dig around for new shirts, “If you get the landlady to want to sleep with you, then that’s a definite.” Louis remembers. He’s been naive and easily fooled, but then chose to do it more times after.

  
“W-Wha—“

  
“Desperate times, Curly.” He calls out as he walks to the bathroom and locks the door.

 


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you're enjoying it so far!

**CHAPTER TWO**

  
The bar Nick’s talking about looks decent enough. Well, it’s a restaurant. It has quite a classy theme with all the lights going on and the waiters in vests moving around. The bar is on the right side, a variety of different drinks. There’s a small stage on the front and a mic stand standing on it, waiting for the next performer. The point is, it’s not too shabby but too shabby for Louis’ wallet.

  
Louis doesn’t show his uncertainty as he stares at the prices on the menu, “I’ll just take the beer.” Louis says, sliding the menu back towards Nick and crossing his arms stubbornly.

  
“Come on, Lou. Y’need to eat!” Nick insists, worry etched in his features.

  
“I’m fine, Grimmy.” Louis tells him. He knows it’s the truth. He knows his collarbones are popping out as well as his ribs and his hands look thinner and rougher. There are bags under his eyes and his skin look pale despite being tan. But those don’t mean he’s not fine. He’s fine.

  
In the end, Nick ends up buying him a whole meal, to which Louis launches a piece of tissue from the table towards him.

  
“When are they performing?” Louis asks, impatient as ever. He was supposed to be at the park today, freezing to death, but earning money.

  
“Third.” Nick answers, “So you better dig the food all in.”

  
Louis rolls his eyes, but says nonetheless, “Since you’re an asshole, I’m gonna pay you back—“

  
“Nah huh. Not hearing anything.” Nick says, continuing to tap on his phone.

  
Louis huffs and prepares to be more stubborn when their food arrives. He glances up at the waiter and his eye widen, surprise evident on his face, “Harry?” The lad is wearing his own uniform of a white (tight) polo and a vest. His curls are pushed but falls stubbornly towards the side of his face because they’re too soft. And tired. He looks tired, but don’t they all?

  
Harry must’ve seen him first, already blushy as he smiles and puts down their food, “U-Uh hi.” He hesitates before greeting Nick as well, “Hello there.”

  
He’s so... soft-spoken, “You work here?” Louis asks dumbly.

  
“Well, yes.” Harry says, “Torro Bar & Restaurant, remember?”

  
And Louis does, at least right now. Because he had no clue what this place is called until at this very moment, “Oh well.” Louis shrugs.

  
Harry finishes putting down their meal. He’s back to being professional again as he presses the empty tray close to him. He glances at Nick before saying, “I hope you enjoy your meal.” He leaves right after.

  
“Ooh lala, who was that?” Nick asks, his eyes following Harry’s back.

  
Louis huffs and snatches his fork and knife, “My roommate.”

  
“Since when did you have a roommate?” Nick chuckles. It’s kind of hard to believe, since Louis especially doesn’t like too much company.

  
“I don’t know, should I keep track?” Louis asks sarcastically, “About a week ago, I guess.” He fills his stomach with food slowly, making sure to savour it. He rarely takes offers like this, and when it’s being handed to him, he encourages himself not to be shy.

  
“How?” Nick asks again.

  
“Amanda said I wasn’t paying rent ‘properly’.” Louis scoffs, remembering her bitterness.

  
“Like.. you’re not fucking her anymore?”

  
Louis can’t help but feel ashamed of that part of his past, “Yeah. She’s all bitter about it, but I’ve gotten great money from the park since I moved so it’s all good.”

  
“I have a friend of mine.” Nick starts, “Job opening at this school...”

  
“What, a janitor?” Louis snorts, “No thanks, Grimmy. First of all, kids piss me off.”

  
“Still, it’s money.”

  
“Lad, even if I freeze my ass to death singing out there every night with the least cash, I’d still do it because I enjoy doing it.” Louis says. If he dies, then at least he’ll die a happy man. He looks around in search of curly, but the flicker of news catches his eye.

  
Nick sighs frustratedly, “Whatever you prefer.”

 

\--

  
Harry has just thrown his paper bag which contained his dinner when he hears someone step into the alley he’s in. He opts to go back inside the restaurant but then he hears someone call Louis’ name and he’s quickly backing up to follow. Standing on the curb outside the restaurant, Louis’ pacing back and forth, running his hands all over his hair and face. The guy he was with tries calming him down, his hands on Louis’ shoulders while Louis pushes them away every time.

  
Harry begins to step forward but then he realizes that Louis would probably feel uncomfortable with him around. It’s only been a week of knowing each other, and well, they’re not even in a friends level yet.

  
So Harry steps back into the alley before going back to work.

  
\--

  
When Harry goes home that night, he’s already planning to just dive straight into his beloved, surprisingly comfortable couch after he changes out of his uniform. He throws his bag on the floor beside the couch as he slips his shoes off and toes it off to the side. He proceeds to the bathroom to change into some sweatpants and a tanktop. He splashes some water over his face.

  
Today has been really tiring. It’s a busy day at work. And Harry works extra diligently since their pay would be given next week. It’s the only day Harry looks forward to.

  
He counts his extra money and keeps it safe in a different wallet which is stuffed inside a sock, which is stuffed underneath all his clothes on the suitcase. He needs to go to the laundromat soon.

  
The door opens and Harry looks up. Louis comes in, looking heavier with feeling as he passes by Harry to go to his room. Harry knew he didn’t eat back at the restaurant. He and his boyfriend’s plates have been left abandoned and unfinished after the commotion that Harry saw.

  
A door creaks open again and there Louis is with his shirtless and sweatpants glory, about to head to the bathroom.

  
“Uh..” Harry squeaked unintentionally, making Louis stop and look at him, “D-Did you eat?”

  
“I can last three days without food, Curly.” Is the only thing Louis says before he disappears into the bathroom.

  
When he comes out, his hair is wet and he’s still shirtless and only wearing sweatpants. Surprisingly, he’s the one who initiates the conversation, “Tiring night?”

  
“Yeah.” Harry makes a show of stretching his back. He’ll need it for this couch, “Too many people, but that’s better than nothing.”

  
Louis walks to the kitchen to grab himself a bottle of water, “Anything is better than nothing, curly, remember that.”

  
“That your philosophy?” Harry teases, unable to stop himself. He has this constant need to befriend almost every person he meets using his lame jokes and hopefully charming attitude, so it’s not his fault why he wants to be just a bit closer to this guy. He is Harry’s roommate, after all. It’s only natural.

  
Louis has walked up to the doorway and leaned against it. His eyebrows are raised in an amused expression, a small smile stretching his lips, “It can be. Fits our situation, doesn’t it?”

  
“You bet it does.” Harry says, agreeing, “Oh uh.” He suddenly remembers the image of Louis freaking out earlier that night, “I saw you outside earlier.. o-outside of the restaurant.”

  
Louis’ expression changes and Harry almost backs out, “And?”

  
“N-Nothing.” Harry gulps. He settles for folding his dirty clothes and stuffing them in a plastic bag, “You just suddenly seemed so stressed, ‘s all.”

  
“A problem came up, lad, don’t worry your head off because of it.” Louis’ apparently done with continuing on with the conversation, because he pushes himself steadily to his feet before walking to his room. But not before calling out a calm, “G’night, Curly.”

  
As if on cue, Harry’s phone begins to ring, and he scrambles to answer it. He sees it’s his mum and mentally prepares himself, “Mum, hi.”

  
“Up so late again, sweetie?” Anne asks. She sounds tired herself. Harry wants to come home to his town and be there for her.

  
“College life is stressful, mum, you know that.” Harry chuckles to himself.

  
“Hm, well, Gemma’s coming by for a few days next week. Maybe you can see if your schedule matches so you can visit home, too?” Anne says. She doesn’t have to ask, is the thing.

  
“Oh uh.. Mum.” I’m broke, “It’s kind of busy these days. Y’know.. completing of requirements and all that.”

  
“That’s fine, sweetie. As long as we’re complete on Christmas.”

  
“Of course, Mum.” Harry gulps, “Uh.. I-I have to go. I love you.”

  
“Love you, too, sweetheart.” They hang up after that, and Harry’s heart is once again feeling much heavier than he did months ago. But he can’t dwell on it. He’s done this to himself so he’s gonna fix it himself.

  
\--

  
Classes are starting to become more stressful with more works needing to be passed. Harry thinks it’s all going down on him. To add onto that, he’s drained from money because of half the rent he had the pay. He had officially stayed in the (shitty, don’t tell anyone that) apartment for a month.

  
One day he’s having lunch at the school cafeteria, waiting for Liam and Niall to come over. Lunch immediately turns to nap as he manages to fall asleep in the middle of stirring his soup. It’s ridiculous.

  
A hand wakes him up, and he jolts up, blinking. He whips his head up to find the offensive hand, but no one is around.

  
“Curly.” Harry turns around, or, does his best at turning around which results to sitting sideways on the booth. Louis’ done the same, raising an eyebrow at Harry. The only thing separating them is the back of the seat of the booth.

  
“Y-Yes?” Harry says, eyes wide and still adjusting from how fast he woke up.

  
“I don’t think it’s appropriate, trying to drown yourself in your soup like that.” Louis deadpans. His eyes flicker down the length of Harry’s face and the lad immediately reaches up.

  
He grabs his tissue and wipes it down his face, grimacing at himself. Fuck, this is embarrassing. When he looks at Louis, the guy is smirking at him, “U-Uh..” Harry hurries to wipe his face in case there’s more, “Thanks for saving my life?”

  
Louis’ smirk broadens to a grin as he playfully scoffs, “Yeah, no prob.” He turns towards his own table, then, continuing with his own lunch.

  
Before Harry can think of it any better, he’s grabbed his tray before shakily meeting the short distance between their tables. Louis looks up at him. Harry blushes, “I-I..share a table?”

  
Louis shakes his head before sighing, pointing his chin on the empty seat across from him. Harry smiles and sits down. He doesn’t know why he still brought his tray, even though he knows he won’t continue eating the soup.

  
“Sorry.” Harry says quietly, regret gradually seeping through him as he sees Louis’ face. It’s not an ‘upset’ face, really but... it’s the face that he pulls every time. That... yeah, that face, whatever that is, “My friends are just taking a bit too long and—“

  
“You don’t ever catch sleep, do you?” Louis asks, raising his eyebrows in question.

  
Harry’s stunned, “I do... just not.. long enough, I guess?”

  
“You work even over the weekends?” Louis asks again.

  
“Yes.” Harry says and now that he thinks about it, he’s not getting any rest all. With the weekdays all about school and work, the weekends are packed for work and schoolwork.

  
“Tomlinson.”

  
Both look up. Louis immediately rolls his eyes at the sight of his best mate. Harry, however, stays practically frozen and a deer in headlights. He looks back at Louis, “I’ll just leave then—“

  
“Oh, no, that’s alright.” The tall guy smiles and offers a hand, “’M Nick.”

  
“Harry.” Harry shakes the hand before pulling away, “You’re the.. boyfriend?”

  
Louis splutters from where he’s drinking from his bottle, “What?”

  
“Boy.. friend?” Harry repeats. He looks from between the two lads before Nick snorts and laughs. He pushes at Louis’ side until the latter moves to the end of the booth, arms crossed. Nick wraps an arm around Louis’ shoulders, “If only he said yes couple of years ago.”

  
“Fuck, God. You’re obnoxious.” Louis pushes Nick away harshly. He looks at Harry, who’s looking surprised and real shaken up with their friendship, “He’s my mate.”

  
“Good to know.” Harry murmurs, a bit unsure but only because he doesn’t know what to say. He always finds himself flustered around new people. Even though Louis’ been his roommate for like a couple of weeks, it’s still kind of difficult to open up to him.

  
“How ‘bout you, lad?” Nick leans forward on his elbows, eyeing Harry down.  
Harry squirms uncomfortably. He shifts his gaze away. Must all senior guys in college be so flirty and... despicable? The guy’s earning himself a bad impression from Harry.

  
“Don’t scare my pal, Grimshaw.” Louis says, and Harry feels himself start to relax. Just a bit, “Bit too young for you.”

  
Nick retaliates, “Then he is for you, too.”

  
Harry coughs, trying to get them to notice that he’s there sitting right across from them. But he can’t shake off the thought that Louis called him pal.

  
“We’re friends, then?” He blurts out.

  
“Hm?” Louis looks confused for a second before it becomes clear, “Ah. Yeah, Curly. Figured it should be a given. We’re roommates, after all. It’s bound to happen.”

  
“So you two are just gonna sit there..” Nick starts, pointing a finger between them two, “.. and friendzone each other?”

  
“Whatever you mean, Grimmy, I will never care.” Louis continues to eat his lunch, a cookie. A cookie, really.

  
Harry stifles a laugh, and Louis looks over at him and smirks.

  
\--

  
Louis’ slouched over a table in the library as he silently reads the story of Romeo and Juliet laid out in front of him. It’s a very classical piece, and everyone must know the plot by now with all the revenge, family issues, deaths and stupidity, but it’s one last requirement for the whole class to conduct a full play about it and so Louis’ forced to learn more all about it.  
His eyes start to strain after an hour of reading so he leans back, pressing his palms into his eyes before blinking them.

  
“Sorry! Sorry!”

  
Louis looks towards the noise and he can’t help but chuckle at what he sees. Harry’s standing over a short ladder, stacks of books in hand as he does his best to stack them in a particular shelf. Judging by the fallen books on the floor, Louis assumes the lad had more books before most of them fell from his arms.

  
Louis looks around to see that none of the students have paid attention to the clumsy boy, nor does Harry have anyone to direct his apologies to when he dropped the books. Unless he was apologizing to the books he dropped. Then that’s just weird, (weirdly endearing, that is.)

  
“Need help, Curly?” Louis doesn’t even realize he’d stood from his chair to walk over, pocketing his hands.

  
“W-What are you doing here?” Harry almost falls off the ladder. It’s only like.. five steps tall.

  
“What else can one do in a library except to read, Harry?” Louis asks rhetorically.

  
He can hear Harry mutter something under his breath before Louis chuckles and bends down to grab the books. Harry grabs them, making sure they’re well-arranged before putting them on the shelf one by one.

  
“You also work here?” Louis asks.

  
“It gives me extra money.” Harry says, grunting when he has to stretch to the far right of the shelf, “And a few extra points to my subjects.”

  
“Don’t you earn enough from the restaurant?” Louis asks, handing him more books.

  
“The one I earn from that is for my school stuff, and the rent, as well.” Harry says, “The one I get from here can be my savings.”

  
“Hm, smart.” Louis compliments.

  
“How ‘bout you, though?” Harry asks. He steps down from the ladder and lands in front of Louis and—okay, he’s quite tall.

  
Louis’ offended, “What about me?”

  
“I mean..” Harry grabs the empty box once filled with books, “Singing on the streets... I’m sure it can’t supply your complete tuition and everything else. Do you have other works?”

  
“No.” Louis answers easily, because it’s the truth. He sees the suspicious look on Harry’s face and huffs, “No, I don’t sell drugs, nor my body.”

  
“Organs, then?”

  
“You caught me.” Louis deadpans while Harry giggles. Louis smiles, then hides it with a cough, “I’m going back, gotta read a script and all.”

  
“Okay.” Harry softly smiles, “See you at home.”

  
\--

  
“You have to—“

  
Harry jumps from his place on the floor. He grabs the first thing he can reach, a sweater, and puts it over his lap where his money filled wallet and sock are resting between his legs.

  
From the doorway of his room, Louis continues to speak, “—be careful where you count your money.”

  
“Uh..” Harry flusters. He keeps the money well-covered. This is the most valuable thing he has right now, so sue him for not wanting his roommate to know where he keeps his money.

  
Louis must’ve seen the uncertainty on Harry’s face, “Don’t worry. If there’s one thing my mum taught me is that having no money is not an issue, being a bad person is.” He walks the short distance to the front door, not giving a second glance towards as he goes out and starts his night.

  
Harry sighs, rubbing his hands over his face. Louis isn’t a bad person, he knows that, but there are also a million things he doesn’t know about Louis so he’s still on the edge here.

  
He keeps his money on a new location.

  
After grabbing his bag, keys and phone, he exits the flat and locks the door behind him. Now, it’s his turn to go start his night. He goes down the stairs, nearly losing his breath when he reaches downstairs. Harry’s not surprised to see Amanda making her way up. She has her hair tied on a sloppy low bun and a cigarette in her hand. She stops at the sight of Harry, not hesitating as she asks, “Is Louis there?”

  
“N-No.” Harry says.

  
She puffs out a breath of smoke before turning back around, going back to her own flat before slamming the door.

  
She’s intimidating, and... thirsty.

  
\--

  
Louis pockets the last of the money he’s earned before zipping his guitar back into its case. Money’s low today, since it’s that time of the month where parks seemingly lose their meaning before sprouting back up during winters or springs, so Louis swings the strap of his guitar around his shoulder and begins walking.

  
It’s almost nine in the evening, so the city’s still as alive it can be. Louis walks through those streets, tugging his coat closer to himself as he shivers from the cold.

  
Louis’ phone rings all of a sudden, and he looks at the unsaved number. It’s unsaved, but Louis remembers all the digits perfectly.

  
He rejects the call and pockets his phone.

  
On his every way back, he passes by the Torro, and he can’t help but look through the windows discreetly as he passes by. He can’t see everything, but he doesn’t need to if he’s only looking for one. Why bother, you ask? He doesn’t know either.

  
When he finally reaches their building, he gratefully slips into its warmth. He climbs up the steps two at a time, regretting it a little when his legs strained and ached after the last step. His relief of getting home is replaced with dread when he sees Amanda in front of his door.

  
She sees him and immediately starts walking towards him in her seductive stride. Louis passes by her, shoving his key into the doorknob before twisting it open. Once inside the flat, he turns around, keeping the door open but not any chance for her to slip in, “What do you need?”

  
“You.” She walks closer, stalking towards him as she bites her lip. Say that Louis’ slept with her countless times before for free rent but that will never be attractive.

  
“I’m paying you real money.” Louis points out, “So you could hop off my back.”

  
Her finger drags down Louis’ chest, “I’d prefer if you paid me the old way.”

  
Louis huffs and shoves her hand away. He barely makes out the tall figure unsurely walking his way towards the door over her shoulder, “Fuck off. I’m paying properly.” He finally meets Harry’s eyes, “Come on, Harry.”

  
He leaves the door slightly open as he goes for the kitchen, starting to prepare his dinner of some canned meat and old loaf. He hears the door softly close and lock before Harry speaks, “What was going on?”

  
“Same old.” Louis replies shortly, “Dinner?” He holds his plate as he starts eating, leaning back on the counter. He doesn’t even have a table. Well, he has a coffee table but that’s Harry’s space.

  
“No, thank you.” Harry says ever-so politely, “I already ate at the restaurant.”

  
Now Louis feels jealous, “They provide their workers free food.”

  
Harry smiles, “The cook’s my friend, so.”

  
“Well, that’s some luck.” Louis gazes down at his own lonely dinner.

  
“I can take you some home sometime?” Harry offers kindly. He puts his bag down and sits down on the couch.

  
“It’s fine, Curly. Thanks for the offer, though.” He finishes his meal in no time before he washes the dishes, putting it back on the rack before wiping his hands messily on his trousers, “Goodnight, Curly.”

  
He barely catches Harry’s soft response as he enters his room.

 

 

 


	3. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> note: flashbacks about cheating

**CHAPTER THREE**

  
“Guys...” Harry asks absentmindedly, eyes trained intently on the table.

  
Liam and Niall, his friends, stop talking and look at him with expectant eyes. It’s lunch and they’re in the cafeteria. Harry’s been thinking about it all day, and throughout Mr. Cruz’ lecture.

  
“What?” Liam gives a worried glance towards Niall. He’s naturally like the oldest brother among the three, always looking out for the idiots.

  
“You know my issue with money, right?” Harry groans. His mind hurts just thinking about it. When he receives more expectant looks from his best friends, he clarifies, “My tuition fee.”

  
“Oh.” Niall concludes, biting down on his burger, “Doesn’t your mum pay for it, though?”

  
“Half of it, yeah.” Harry confirms. He vaguely remembers telling his mum that he wants to pay for his own tuition fee, but she refused. And Harry basically wrestled her verbally until she sighed in defeat and said to pay for half of it. Sometimes, she sends even more money than that.

  
“Then just..” Liam pauses, “Well, you won’t want to tell her that you can’t pay for the other half.”

  
Harry doesn’t answer because it’s the truth.

  
Niall, despite his usually happy-go-lucky behavior, says seriously, “Mate, you should really tell your family about your situation right now—“

  
“You know why I can’t, Ni.”

  
“It’s not that you can’t. It’s because you don’t want to.” Liam threads carefully, not wanting to upset Harry, “It’ll be a huge relief.”

  
“I can take care of my own.” Harry snaps unintentionally, and they both know by the way he immediately winces and tugs at his hair, “I’m sorry.”

  
“Well..” Niall hesitates, “You mentioned before that your professor finally made you guys take home your works and stuff, right?” He waits for Harry’s nod, “Maybe you can.. sell some of it?”

  
Harry looks up from his hands, “You really think I can?” He rephrases his sentence, “Like.. people would actually buy them?”

  
“Mate, the real question is if you’re actually willing to sell them.” Niall says. And he’s right, because Harry normally gets attached to his pieces, just wants to collect them and hang them up somewhere when he settles down on his own flat.

  
But he can’t see that happening anytime soon, so the best thing to do is to sell them away, “I can.” Harry replies, mainly encouraging himself, I can.”

  
After classes, Harry manages to spot Louis exiting the building, on his way home as well probably. Harry calls out, “Louis!” He jogs over towards him as Louis stops and turns around confusedly. He’s dressed in some jeans and a maroon hoodie, his bag behind him and a notebook in his hand.

  
“Hi?” Louis says, seemingly surprised. Harry would have been, too, since they rarely see each other during classes.

  
Looking at Louis, Harry forgets what he’s supposed to ask, or say, “U-Uh.. wait. I forgot what I was gonna say.”

  
Louis rolls his eyes but there’s a smile on his lips, stifling a laugh, “Well, I’m heading back home. Wanna come with?”

  
In the bus, Harry’s sat on the window seat, fiddling with his fingers. The bus driver waits for the bus to fill up before he eventually closes the door and begins to drive.

  
Harry clears his throat and looks at Louis. He’s about to open his mouth to say something when he realizes Louis is dozing off. His eyes are closed and lips pursed, his arms crossed over his chest as his head rests against the seat. Harry’s never looked at him so close before. His skin looks almost flawless except for a few acne scares and the large bags under his eyes from all the late night he had to endure. His button nose looks cute, twitching a little as he tries to catch sleep. And his lips are thin and dry-looking, Harry doesn’t know why he takes the time to look at those the longest.

  
The bus goes over a bump and it wakes Louis instantly, eyes blinking rapidly as he looks around. Harry looks away, and back to the window, cursing himself and blushing madly.

  
\--

  
“Did you finally remember what you were gonna ask me?” Louis asks as he steps out into the living room from his room, his guitar strap around his shoulder.

  
Well, thing is. Harry remembers, this whole time. He figures he’s just too—  
“Or have you finally found the courage to ask me?” Louis asks again, a smirk playing on his lips.

  
“Uh..” Harry scrambles from the couch. He stands to his feet, “Are you gonna play at the park tomorrow?”

  
“Tomorrow’s Saturday.” Louis appears to be pondering over it, “Yeah, a whole day. Why?”

  
“Can I come with you tomorrow?” Harry asks.

  
Louis looks down at Harry’s little space, seeing his pieces scattered all around but still looking organized, “Why?”

  
Harry looks even more timid as he answers no, “I wanna sell these. For extra cash, y’know.”

  
“You sure?” Louis asks, his eyebrows furrowed.

  
Harry takes a deep breath, “Yeah.”

  
The next day, Louis tells him that they’re going to leave at around noon. Harry mentally prepares himself. His preparation include hugging each and every one of his works and reminiscing the times he almost pulled out his hair because of them.

“Y’alright?” Louis asks him one time as he exits the bathroom.

  
Harry sighs longingly at his painting.

  
“Okay then.” Louis chuckles before there’s a door closing.

  
Harry’s phone rings, and he grabs it, answering the call, “Hello?”

  
“Harry, love.” Anne’s voice greets.

  
Harry’s shaken more awake, “Mum, hi.”

  
“You know what time of the year it is, H.” She informs, “I just sent the money to your account.”

  
Harry feels relief overcome him, “Okay, Mum, thank you.”

  
“Sure, sweetheart. Tell me if anything’s wrong okay?”

  
Harry gulps and he barely croaks out, “Okay, Mum. Love you.” He hangs up and pockets his phone. He’ll have another errand, then.

  
“The easiest way to sell them is to post them online, you know?” Louis suggests, eventually coming out of his room after getting dressed. He’s dressed in some black jeans and a graphic tee, his fringe still wet and sloppily slicked back by fingers.

  
He watches the lad stack his works piece by piece before wrapping them efficiently with rope. He’s really determined about this.

  
“Easiest but not the best.” Harry grunts. Where did he get the rope, anyway? He must really be prepared for this, “I don’t want frauds, plus it takes a while to sell online.”

  
Louis purses his lips, mentally agreeing, “Just a suggestion.”

  
Harry stands back to his height. He looks at Louis worriedly, “A-Are you sure you want me to come with you? I was just asking to come along because I don’t know where else I—“

  
“It’s fine, Curly.” Louis cuts off his rambling, “I could use a little company every once in a while.”

  
The beaming smile he gets admittedly made his morning better.

  
\--

  
After getting permission from the guards in the park, Harry’s sure to set up his work on a little space where most people could be spotted lounging around. It’s the perfect day, as well. It’s sunny out and a little windy.

  
Louis watches him as Harry knees his way into the grass as he arranges his pieces neatly. He’d pull back every time just to check if everything’s aligned or something. Louis can’t help but feel endeared. It isn’t until Harry looks at him that he snaps back, “Where do you usually play? Do you have like uh.. a spot?”

  
“I usually just loiter around.” Louis takes his eyes off of him as he lets them scan over the park. There’s a fountain in the middle of the park and that’s where he typically plays, “The fountain’s a good spot.”

  
Harry turns to look at it, and he smiles when he looks back at Louis, “Okay. I’ll be here.”

  
Louis nods, “Good luck.” He finds himself a spot and lays out his guitar case, sitting his guitar down on the edge of the fountain. He takes a look around, using that as an excuse to look back where Harry is.

  
Harry’s plopped down on the grass, reading a book, and Louis wonders if there are any more lads like him who are the epitome of… soft.

  
He’s in jeans with a rip on the knees, and he’s wearing an equally soft lavender sweater. It looks too big on him that he had to roll the sleeves. He’s.. soft.

  
And younger. And Louis’ roommate.

  
Louis huffs at himself and grabs his guitar, sitting his arse down on the edge of the fountain and begins to play. He usually has a playlist for his everyday plays, and today he’s picked those sappy love songs.

  
The thing about singing is that Louis’ loved doing it for as long as he can remember. It’s not very ideal for source of money but this, right here, is his dream – being able to sing in front of a crowd. And he does it every day now.

  
By afternoon, his stomach begins to rumble. He ignores it, used to not eating too much as he continues playing. It’s only that he’s taking a break when someone approaches him with a sandwich and a bottle of water. He looks up and sees Harry, “Uh.. hi?” He glances down at the snack but doesn’t take it.

  
“It’s y-yours.” Harry urges shyly, pushing them into Louis’ hands, “Just a little.. thank you. A-And I made sure that the water isn’t too cold. They say it’s bad for your throat especially when you’re...” He looks at Louis before he clears his throat, “I-I’ll go back now."

  
“Thanks, Curly.” Louis gives him a grateful smile. He wants to ask Harry if he wants to sit with for a while, but that can’t do since Harry has more things to do.

  
It’s five in the afternoon when Louis’ hit with the want to go home. He’s knackered, and he supposes he deserves some rest. He puts his earn on his wallet before putting it on the pocket of his coat, secured. He places his guitar on its case and zips it up, beginning to walk over where Harry is. He’s assisting some old lady, grabbing a certain painting of his before handing it to her.

  
Louis watches as the lady gushes, “Oh, this is so beautiful. You made this yourself?” She looks genuinely fascinated by it. It’s a painting of the sunset, with the layers of colors and their blending.

  
Harry nods and smiles, “Yes, ma’am.”

  
Louis watches their exchange, before the woman hands Harry the money before walking off with the painting. Harry turns to him, then, “Hi.” He notices Louis’ guitar and says, “Ready to go?”

  
“Are you?” Louis asks.

  
“I think I’ve earned enough for today.” Harry answers, “I can just go back tomorrow or something.” He grabs the rope and begins to pack up his things.

  
He looks around and spots a noodle house, immediately his stomach begins to rumble, “Hey, Harry.”

  
“Yeah?”

  
Louis smiles, “Let’s eat, come on. My treat.”

  
“O..kay.” Harry drawls out, quite unsure but he packs up anyway. When he’s done, both lads walk towards the noodle house, and Harry’s baffled. When Louis looks at him, he says, “What’s wrong?”

  
“It’s.. it’s quite expensive, Lou.” The nickname rolls off his tongue easily, but he ignores it.

  
“It’s fine.” Louis waves a hand. He reaches to push the door open but he notices Harry’s still standing there, “Curly, come on. It’s my treat.”

  
“Still!” Harry exclaims. He clamps his mouth shut and lowers his voice, “I-I can’t, Lou. It’s expensive.”

  
“Yeah, but I want noodles.” Louis emphasizes, “Come on. It’s my treat.” He repeats.

  
Even when they’re sat across from each other and have been served some ramen, Harry’s still restless. Louis grabs his own chopsticks and spoon, “Not gonna eat?”

  
“I-It’s yours.”

  
“Harry, a while ago you bought me lunch so I’m returning the favor.” The first slurp of the noodles has Louis groaning at the taste.

  
“It’s a snack, it’s not even a proper meal.” Harry mutters, looking down at his lap.

  
“Okay.” Louis nods, but not agreeing. It’s enough for him in every way, “And this is my way of returning the favor.” He continues eating, “We both deserve a good meal.”

  
Harry’s quiet for a few moments, before he sighs and nods, reluctantly meeting Louis’ eyes. Louis doesn’t watch him, instead continuing to eat. He doesn’t want the guy to be in more guilt than he already is.

  
“Thank you.” He hears Harry say, still as shy even after a month of living together under one roof.

  
They eat in silence, though Louis deems it comfortable. Harry’s the last one to finish, and he eats faster after noticing that Louis’ already finished.

  
“Good, yeah?” Louis asks. He’s slurped down the noodles to the very last drop.

  
“Thank you again.” Harry says, eyes filled with such gratefulness, “I’ll pay you back some time after.”

  
“It’s no biggie.” Louis shrugs.

  
Harry looks curious, though, eyebrows furrowed, “But still though, that’s like your whole day’s earn.”

  
Joking, Louis smirks, “Why? You’re worried I won’t be able to pay my half of the rent?”

  
“N-No.” Harry stammers, something he does a whole lot, “Just... how do you do it? Look at me, I work at a restaurant, at school, and my salaries not even enough that I even had to sell my works.”

  
He waits for Louis’ answer, and the latter’s quiet for a few moments that Harry’s afraid he offended him. But eventually, Louis shrugs, “Guess I’m just that good at singing.”

  
Harry scoffs playfully, Louis laughs.

  
Harry goes to work that evening a tiny bit late, and for the first time he didn’t care how Billy scolded him.

  
\--

  
The next morning, banging on the door stops Harry from shoving his dirty clothes in a plastic bag. It’s Sunday, so it’s the best time to go to the laundromat. He stands to his feet and opens the door. He almost slams it shut when he sees it’s Amanda, but he’ll probably get kicked out or get kicked in the face if he did that.

  
“H-Hi.” Harry says. Hs glances behind him, knowing full well that Louis’ still sleeping.

  
“Louis has a package.” She hands him a small rectangular box wrapped in tape. Harry takes it, and he watches as she rolls her eyes and walks away.  
The package is gripped into Hardy’s hand as he knocks on Louis’ door with the other. After a few moments, the door cracks open. Louis’ still positively sleepy, eyes only half open and hair disheveled. Harry blinks and holds out the package, “U-Uh.. Amanda said it’s.. for you.”

  
Louis looks down at the box, and then he huffs and roughly takes it, slamming the door at Harry’s face. Harry jumps back, heart hammering at the harsh sound. It’s alright, Louis must be going through something. Once Harry’s calmed himself, he can’t help but glance back at the door from time to time.

  
It only opened thirty minutes later, and Louis storms out. Harry barely manages to catch a glimpse of the opened package in his hand before Louis’ stepping out of the flat and slamming the door shut. Thankfully, the hinges don’t give up on themselves, still hanging on.

  
Meanwhile, Louis’ caught himself a cab, slumped down on the backseat as he mutters the address to the driver, who curtly nods and begins to drive. The money in his pocket is burning in his pocket. It pains him to touch it, to use it.

  
“We’re here, sir.” The driver says after a few minutes of driving. Louis hands him a bill, not even looking if it’s the right amount. Well, the driver can keep the change, he’ll need it.

  
Louis steps out of the cab and steps into the small building. On the entrance, Beth is already there and she smiles, putting a hand on her chest as she approaches him with a hug, “Oh, Louis. It’s so good to see you.”

  
Beth is the caretaker of all the kids in this small orphanage. She’s like the mother of these eleven children currently swarming Louis up now.

  
“Louis! It’s so good to see you!” Don, a seven-year-old boy, greets enthusiastically, wrapping his small arms around Louis’ waist, “We missed you!”

  
Louis smiles, feels his chest fill with warmth, “I missed you all, too. How’ve you been?” He receives a bunch of little shrieks as a response, and he chuckles fondly.

  
He finds himself in their playground a little while later, and he’s shrugged his coat off so he can play with the kids. Turns out they were having a little tea party before he arrived, so sat down between Ana and Jorge.

  
This orphanage is a really important for him. It’s a small facility, but it has the biggest place in his heart. They’ve taken him in when he was sixteen, lost and cold out there, and he left to live on his own when he turned eighteen.

  
_Moans were heard around the house, along with the rough knocks of the headboard against the wall. Louis couldn’t block his eyes, his hands occupied with stuffing his bag with as much clothing it can fit. Tears fill his eyes, and no. No. He’s cried enough._

  
_He swings the bag over his shoulder and runs down the hall. The sounds of sex, disgustingly so, haven’t stopped, and Louis takes the opportunity to leave, shutting the door closed quietly before running._

  
_The cemetery isn’t close, but it’s the only thing Louis can go to. He sits on the grass, sniffling his way through as he covers his face with his hands, “Mum.”_

  
After a little play, the kids are shooed off to take their afternoon naps. Dejectedly, they all said goodbye to Louis with hugs and promises before leaving. Another caretaker takes them to their rooms, so Beth leads Louis out in their small garden.

  
Without further ado, Louis pulls out the envelope containing the money from his pocket, “Beth, here."

  
Beth clamps a hand over her mouth, tearing up immediately, “Oh, Louis.” Her hand moves to her chest, “You know you don’t have to do this.”

  
“I want to.” Louis insists, “Plus, it’s not my money to begin with.”

  
“Your father’s.” Beth understands, because she’d been there and after Louis’ first visit after he moved out, he told her that his father’s been sending him monthly... budget.

  
Louis nods, “Yeah."

  
“Sweetheart.” She still doesn’t take the money. She’s always so hesitant every time he hands her some, “This is supposed to be for you.”

  
“I already cut out the amount I needed for my tuition, Beth.” Louis reassures her. “And that’s all I need.”

  
“But you have other needs, Louis.” She takes his wrist and pushes it away gently, “And we’ve been taking these donations from you for so long. I know you deserve it.”

  
Thing is, Louis doesn’t believe it. If he’d been using his father’s money all along, he’d be in a nicer apartment, nicer clothes, and all that. But he feels like he doesn’t deserve it. The money he’s earned, the money he grew tired of earning—that’s what he deserves.

  
Louis smiles and takes her hand, placing the envelope in her palm, “Beth, you need this more than I do. I love those kids, yeah? And I want the best for them.”

  
She lets out a sob, finally taking the money before engulfing Louis in a hug. Louis smiles and hugs her back. She’s his second mother, and he owes her for taking him in his hardest days.

  
He leaves the orphanage shortly after.

  
\--

  
_“Dad?” Louis frowns, peeking through the hallway to see his father come home drunk, slamming the door on his way in. Louis groans at the sight of the cigarette hanging from his lips, wanting so badly to rip it out._

  
_“Dad.” Louis says as he steps towards his father, “Dad, you’re drunk, come on.”_

  
_“Where’s.. your Mum?” His father slurs, “Jay!”_

  
_“Dad, she’s in the hospital.” Louis mumbles, looking up at his father like he’s some sort of stranger, “Nan’s taking care of her.”_

  
_“Then why...” his father drops on Louis, who only winces at the weight and swings an arm around his own shoulder, helping his father to walk to his room, “... you here?”_

  
_“It’s a school night.” Louis grunts. Reaching his parents’ room, Louis drops his father down on the mattress. The man makes incoherent noises, scratching roughly at his stubble and neck._

  
_Louis narrows his eyes, eyes closing in on the marks scattered around his father’s skin._

  
\--

  
Harry wakes up to loud thuds. He jolts awake on his couch, sitting up quickly. His heart is hammering, because it’s in the middle of the night and he’s all alone in the flat because Louis’—

  
Oh.

  
Harry sags in relief, finding Louis passed out on the floor. Wait, passed out? Harry squeaked and immediately goes to the lad, closing the door before kneeling beside Louis’ body. He fell on his front, his face turned to the side so his cheek is mushed against the dirty floor. Harry winces and he grabs Louis’ arm, turning him around gently and carefully. Louis lets out a snort, his hand blindly reaching up to scratch at his cheek before it falls to his side. Now that Harry’s gotten a closer look at him, he notices that Louis’ drunk.

  
“L-Louis?” Harry asks quietly. He shakes Louis’ arm. The lad doesn’t budge, proceeding to take a nap right on the floor. How he managed to get home, Harry has no idea. It’s almost midnight, and Louis would get a massive hangover tomorrow morning.

  
“Okay, I’m going to carry you to your bed now, okay?” Harry says. He waits if Louis can muster a response. He should’ve expected there will be none. He finds himself a better position, stood between Louis’ spread legs. He grabs Louis by the elbows and hoists him up slowly to a sitting position. The lad slumps backward, and Harry panics and pulls him forward.

  
That is the wrong move. That’s the worst move, because Harry had pulled too hard that Louis’ forehead bumped against his crotch.

  
“Shit.” Harry groans, doubling over as he hisses. He doesn’t let go of Louis’ arms. He composes himself after a few moments, releasing a big heave of air.

  
“I’m sorry.” He whispers to Louis. He’s more careful now when he pulls Louis to his feet.

  
And everything is just wrong, okay? Louis’ knees buckle the moment he put his weight on them and Harry yelps as he reaches for Louis, wrapping an arm around his waist. The force causes him to stumble until his back hits the closed door. He groans again, rubbing his head with his free hand while the other one is still wrapped around Louis.

  
“Shit, I’m so sorry.” Harry whispers again. He freezes, though, his grip on Louis tightening when the latter slumps forward to rest his head on Harry’s shoulder, his face nuzzled on Harry’s neck.

  
“Okay.” Harry tries to calm himself, because if he doesn’t he’s sure to drop Louis anytime now.

  
He keeps his arm tight around Louis before lifting him up just so his feet couldn’t touch the ground. He’d carry Louis bridal style but then he doesn’t know if his balance can take it. He begins to walk with Louis all droopy in his arms. Fortunately, he doesn’t manage to whack Louis’ head or limbs into something.

  
He does lose balance at the last second, though, because he trips on a shoe and he lands on the bed, crushing Louis within half a second before he lifts himself up slightly, “Sorry, s-sorry.”

  
Louis’ groaning as his head lolls from side to side, “What...” He slurs, “Doing?”

  
“Sorry!” Harry apologizes again like it’s the only word he’ll know. He immediately backs of, hands raised in case Louis thought of anything, “Y-You passed out in the living room s-so I-I..—“ He cuts himself when he hears Louis snoring. He stares at the older lad in disbelief, before rolling his eyes at himself. How Louis manages to get him to a stuttering mess even when asleep is beyond him.

  
Harry marches out of the room. Gently.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tell me what you guys think xx


	4. Chapter Four

**CHAPTER FOUR**

  
Louis groans as a knock wakes him up from his sleep. Aside from that, his head bloody hurts it might as well explode. The knocks are almost quiet that Louis’ not sure how he managed to wake up from them.

  
“What?” He more or less whines into his pillow. He turns to his side, and then he realizes that he’s quite uncomfortable. He looks down and—oh, and he’s still wearing his clothes from yesterday.

  
Wait.

  
How did he even get home?

  
Before he can use his mind any further, Harry’s muffled voice speaks through the door, “I-It’s Harry. And... it’s—I-I don’t know your schedule for today but I figured I should just wake you up. Y’know, in case y-you don’t want to be late or anything.”

  
Louis sighs loudly, clutching his head. He composes himself for a few moments before he stands up, opening the door. Harry’s all ready to go to uni, dressed in denim jeans and a shirt with his boots. He offers Louis a smile.

  
“What happened last night?” Louis tries to ask without opening his mouth too wide. He must have shit breath especially after drinking.

  
“You were drunk.” Harry informs. He’s bouncing on his heels a little bit, a habit, maybe.

  
“Oh.” Now Louis remembers. Bit by bit. But he doesn’t want to, “Okay.”

  
“Oh, and here.” Harry reaches his hand out, handing Louis some pills, “For your.. hangover.”

  
“Do I look like I have a hangover?” Louis narrows his already droopy eyes. He probably looks like an animal. A dead animal, at that.

  
To his surprise, Harry giggles, “Yes.”

  
Louis can’t help his smile, “What time’s your class?”

  
“Eight.” Harry says, “It’s six o’clock now.”

  
Louis frowns, a little baffled, “Why would you leave two hours before class?”

  
“Library hours, remember?” Harry informs. He’s still smiling, probably amused.

  
“That sucks.” Louis voices out, “Be careful on your way.”

  
Harry giggles at that again, “I think you need that more than I do.”

  
“I do, don’t I?” Louis snorts, and even that sends jolts of pain inside his head. After Harry leaves, he takes the longest shower to really clear up his head before drinking the medicine Harry gave him. He’s just an angel, isn’t he? All ready to help anyone out.

  
He almost misses his stop, but thankfully he manages to stumble out of the bus and eventually into a classroom. Hopefully, it’s the right one.

  
He’s about to doze off the remaining minutes before the professor comes in but a hand lands on his shoulder. He groans and looks up, eyes instantly glaring. It doesn’t soften at all even when he realizes it’s his best mate.

  
“Aw, you poor baby.” Nick cackles, whacking Louis lightly on the head to which the latter lands a punch on his shoulder, “Ow, ow, okay. Jesus.” He plops down beside Louis, “You don’t get to punch me when I literally ditched my long hours of sleep for you.”

  
Louis returns back to his position, slumped in his chair and a palm resting on his cheek, “What even happened last night?” He repeats the question.

  
“Hm, let’s see.” Nick pretends to ponder, “I was chilling in my dorm when all of a sudden I get a call from Louis Tomlinson himself, inviting me to _drink, goddamnit_.” He poorly imitates, but Louis’ sure he doesn’t sound like that, “And when I got to the pub you were already off your head.”

  
“Went to the orphanage.” Louis informs, rubbing his temples.

  
Nick understands immediately, “Ah, now it makes sense. And you.. got the money?”

  
“Yeah.” Louis says. He stares ahead, at the slowly filling classroom, “Split it in half, as usual.”

  
“Mate, you know it won’t hurt to take it all for just once. I mean, look at you.” Nick reaches over to lift Louis’ shirt up a little. Louis pushes his hand away. Nick pulls back, “Just use it for yourself. Buy food, new clothes, all that stuff.”

  
“I don’t want to, Nick.” Louis tells him coldly.

  
Judging by the first name use, Nick sighs and nods, knowing that it’s serious business when Louis uses his first name, “Alright, alright. But next time I don’t want you drinking again.”

  
“Says the bastard who always get shitfaced on frat parties.”

  
“I meant I don’t want you drinking because of your father.” Nick clarifies, “Drink all you want as long as you’re having fun, I don’t care. But if you’re gonna cry and whine about your father all night instead of just talking to him, then I don’t want that.”

  
Louis stays silent. He doesn’t want to settle it here, in a classroom where anyone can pass by and hear. He doesn’t want to talk about it at all. It’s a heavy topic for him to pursue and he’s not ready anytime soon.

  
~○~

  
Harry stares dumbfounded at his notebook, filled with the procedures for his newest project as well as the materials and his greatest problem—their prices. Harry’s head swirls a little. Why did he want to be an art student again?

  
A single portrait, and Harry’s sure to spend hundreds on it if he wants to pass this semester and of course, he wants to pass this semester. His money is already enough for his tuition, his food, the monthly rent. It’s all divided now, ad he needs to work even harder. Not to mention he has more stuff to spend on like the money he needs to go back home, Christmas gifts, fuck, his gifts are gonna suck.

  
“Oh my God.” Harry groans, nearly whining as he bangs his head firmly on the table.

  
“Harry’s lost his mind again."

  
Harry looks up to see his friends taking their seats across from him. He only huffs and resumes his moping. He hears Liam chuckle before saying, “Okay, I’m guessing it has something to do with you financially.”

  
Harry groans, “What’s new?”

  
“Well, how about romantically?” Niall, always the headache, teases. When he sees Harry’s glare, his smile wipes out, “Um.. okay, what is it?”

  
Harry rests his hands on the table and places his cheek on top of them. He’s probably looking more childish than all the children in the world, but he doesn’t care, this is serious business, “New project.”

  
“Well... I’m guessing you’re stressing about how you’re gonna pay for the stuff?”

  
Liam is Harry’s hero, honestly. “Yeah.”

  
“Haz.” Niall says more seriously this time, “It’s one call away from your mother, mate.”

  
“That’s not an option, though.” Harry murmurs. He sits up with a large sigh and begins eating his lunch.

  
“She’ll want to help you.” Niall encourages, his positive aura shining through his hopeful blue eyes.

  
“With a great amount of disappointment, I’m sure.” He’s lost his appetite, Harry decides, so he drops his fork and slumps in his seat.

  
“You won’t know if you don’t try, H—“

  
Harry’s fists clench, “You’re right, I don’t.” He says through gritted teeth, words coming out from pure frustrations, “But neither of you fucking know what it feels to have your mum be proud of you and you ruining that because of—because of your own selfishness."

  
There’s silence, only the noises all around the cafeteria is heard and Harry’s breathing. Liam and Niall glance at each other. There’s not a single anger or irritation in their eyes, just concern. So it has Harry deflating, “I—sorry, guys.” He grabs his bag, standing up, “I-I’ll see you later.” He begins his hasty retreat towards the doors. He wipes his eyes as he pushes through the doors, but he stops in his tracks as he bumps to a body.

  
“Ow, fuck—“

  
It’s Louis, and he’s clutching his forehead and Harry’s clutching his nose from the force and both of them groaning from the impact.

  
“Shit.” Harry’s the first to say, “I-I’m sorry, Lou. I—“ He swallows a lump in his throat, then he pushes past Louis before his tears begin to fall.

  
He works a little over his shift, doing everything he could to get his mind off of his problems right now. Some time in the night, Billy calls for him.

  
“Boy, we’re short on a performance tonight.” The man says. He glances at the empty stage.

  
Harry clutches the tray he has in his head, “A-And?”

  
“You’ve always wanted to sing, yeah?” Billy smiles then. God, Harry’s never known a very kind boss like Billy.

  
He finds himself onstage that night, also with a promise from Billy to give him a few percent raise.

  
~○~

  
Louis’ distracted. His fingers aren’t cooperating and he blames it on the cold. Which, he only uses as an excuse to performing poorly tonight. He doesn’t even know why. All he knows is that he keeps on asking himself if Harry’s okay, or if he’s still up—

  
Oh.

  
“Jesus, Louis.” He curses to himself. He sighs heavily, looking around the park to find it nearly empty. Great, he just wasted the day away. He packs his guitar and his earn with a silent promise of doing much better next time.

  
During the bus ride, he doesn’t let his mind linger too much like what it did hours ago. But the image of Harry crying is etched into his mind.

  
And okay, cut him some slack. Harry’s his roommate, a friend. Worrying is what every friend does to another friend. That’s what friends are for. Friends are there for each other.

  
Louis huffs at himself. This is ridiculous.

  
But it’s not that easy, alright? He’s never felt like this before, so full of concern towards a friend. He doesn’t even treat Nick like this, Nick can go fuck himself. That’s probably half untrue, but to Nick it’s always platonic. To Harry, Louis doesn’t know. It’s confusing the hell out lf him so yes, it isn’t in any aspect, good.

  
Mulling over too much inside the bus isn’t a good idea, because Louis nearly misses his stop. But eventually he finds himself walking up the stairs without any more interruption.

  
He enters his flat, immediately finding Harry sat on the floor in front of his couch. He’s on the phone, talking to someone, and he offers Louis a polite smile which looks too forced for Louis’ liking. Louis wanders into the kitchen after setting his guitar in his room. He gets himself a glass of water, and his ears can’t help but hear Harry’s voice.

  
“Yeah, Mum, I got it yesterday.” Harry says, then with a light chuckle, “Everything’s fine, Mum.”

  
Louis quirks an eyebrow. He doesn’t mean to pry but he thinks Harry almost bursting into tears in the hall is eveything far from fine.

  
“W-What is it?” A trembly one, “Oh.. Mum, I can send.. the money b-back to you if you really need it...” What? “Mum, nonono, it’s fine. I-It really is.”

  
Louis does his best to block it all out after that, feeling his guilt beginning to crawl up on him. He exits the kitchen after finishing his water to go straight to his room, shutting the door behind him.

  
~○~

  
“No, Harry, it’s fine.” Anne tries to convince Harry, but how could he be if all he’s hearing are her cries? Anne had called him, a sobbing mess as she says that his Aunt Poppy was rushed to the hospital. From that, Harry knows what’s going to happen. Eventually, Aunt Poppy’s family would ask for his mum some money, where Harry comes in. He doesn’t need to do it, but he wants to.

  
“Mum.” Harry insists, tries not to imagine what a pain in the arse it will be for working extras. But at least he gets to help his mum, “Mum, I love you, and I’ll send back the money to you as soon as possible, okay?”

  
“Oh, Harry.” Her sobs start up again, gentle just like she is.

  
Harry doesn’t ever want to hear her like this again, “I’ll send it back to you.” He repeats, also to himself to shake some sense into him.

  
“My baby, I’m so sorry.” Anne says.

  
“Mum, it’s alright.” He chuckles wetly, “I’ve earned enough from the job I got, and it’s all going well.” He closes his eyes at that, feeling more tears drip down his cheeks.

  
“You’re sure, okay?”

  
Harry gulps, “Very.”

  
He says goodbye to her a few moments with the same promise. His phone clatters to the floor as soon as he hangs up, curling up against the couch, his hands on his face. He begins to sob, can’t really help it when everything just comes crashing down on him.

  
“You alright?”

  
Harry jumps at the voice, his sob getting interrupted by a hiccup. He sees Louis standing on the hall, having exited the bathroom. He’s dressed and his hair is still dripping with water.

  
Harry nods, “Y-Yeah.”

  
Louis rubs his towel against his head, drying his hair, “And you think telling me that will convince me?”

  
Harry sniffles and looks down on his lap. He’s still pathetically sitting on the floor, facing the couch. He looks up when he feels Louis sit on the end of it. Harry’s face crumples and the need to just cry overwhelms him. Louis lets him, basking in the silence apart from Harry’s snorts and hiccups. He doesn’t touch, doesn’t reach over an offer a pat in the back, but the way he’s just being there weirdly provides Harry some sort of comfort.

  
When Harry eventually calms himself down is when Louis chooses to speak, “I rarely cry, you know?”

  
Harry blinks up at him, eyes _greengreengreen_.

  
Louis just picks at the loose thread of his sweatpants, “When I cry, I do it all in one go. Just to get it over with. Just to let those frustrations out.” He shrugs, “But after that, I don’t.. bask in those problems. I just.. help myself.” He finally meets Harry’s eyes, “And so should you.”

  
Harry looks down again, sniffling, “I-I just..” He looks up to see Louis patiently waiting for him to finish, “Everything is so hard.” His voice cracks, a new batch of tears waiting to be released, “And I just want to go home.”

  
“Why can’t you?” Louis asks.

  
“Because,” Harry hiccups again, “I told my Mum I can provide for myself. That I can do it. And—“ He sniffles, wiping messily under his nose like a little child, “I failed her. I failed myself. She’ll be so disappointed in me.”

  
“It’s why you never went back home.” Louis answers for himself.

  
Harry nods, “I was so sure that I could be independent, but then I-I got a little crazy with the spending and...” He sniffles again, “.. next thing I know, I’m out in the streets while m-my classmates have dorms a-and apartments!” He laughs to himself, at himself, “I was homeless for like a month before I found this flat.”

  
Harry melts into his tears again. He covers his face and his shoulders wracked with his heavy sobs. It’s clear that all his problems have bottled up and just... blew over.

  
“And then—“ Harry continues, beginning a rant, “My mum already pays half of my tuition and I still can’t earn properly and having an arts degree is so expensive—“ He breaks off again, taking a breath before letting out a frustrated cry, “A-And now I-I have so much shit to spend on! Nothing’s fair I-I—“

  
Harry cuts off there, then, realizing just how childish and immature he’s asking. He breaks eye contact with Louis. He moves his eyes to his lap and tries to control his breathing. Eventually, Louis’ voice makes him look up.

  
“If I were your mum, I’d be proud of you either way.” Louis tells him without a single hesitation, “Working your ass off, living in a shitty flat.” He takes a look around their apartment, “It’s not very ideal. But at least you’re working on it.”

  
When he looks at Harry, the lad is still very much unconvinced, judging by his furrowed eyebrows and lip bitten between his teeth.

  
Louis leans forward, his elbows resting on his parted knees, “Hey.” He says softly this time, “You’ll get through this. As a friend, I’ll be here.”

  
There’s so much sincerity in Louis’ eyes, genuine worry and concern filling them. Harry’s overwhelmed. He used to be so intimidated just by Louis’ presence alone but he’s learned that Louis’ a good person.

  
“Can I just—“ Harry knees closer, still scrubbing at his eyes, “Can I hug you?”

  
“Uh..” Louis doesn’t provide Harry an answer, but when Harry hugs him anyway, he lets him, rubbing the lad’s back and stroking his hair with the other as Harry sniffles against his chest.

  
After being along for the longest time, this is exactly what he needs—a hug, or some sort of comfort. And right Louis’ giving him it and it relaxes him.

  
They don’t know how long they stayed in that position, but Harry’s the first one to pull away, wiping his nose. Louis can’t help but smile, biting it back as he sees Harry’s red eyes, nose and cheeks. He’s still hiccupping slightly. Louis doesn’t know how but Harry makes it endearing.

  
“Don’t cry anymore after this.” Louis says gently, “I want you to make it better for you.” He pokes a finger on Harry’s chest.

  
“Okay.” Harry nods determinedly. He clears his throat and gulps, still nodding to himself. He sits back on his haunches, folding his hands on his lap. It’s overall innocent, or not so.

  
Louis shakes his head, refusing to think with his dick. He looks down again to see Harry. His eyebrows are still furrowed and it looks like he’s thinking to himself. Louis stands up then, wordlessly going to his room. He doesn’t know what he’s doing. But oh, look at him, he’s doing it anyway.

  
He comes back with a few bills in hand. He finds Harry sat on the couch this time, arranging his blanket and pillow. Louis walks up to him and stands behind the couch, his palm held out.

  
Harry looks up, then, eyes widening, “Lou, what—“

  
“Take it.” Louis encourages, “You need something to start with.” When Harry doesn’t take it sooner, and he leans down and grabs Harry’s hand, “Take it.”

  
Harry takes it, face surprisingly crumpling, “You’re gonna make me cry again.”

  
Louis chuckles. His hand comes up to thumb away Harry’s tear tracks. He freezes as he realizes, pulling back quickly, “O-Okay. Don’t... do that again.” He stutters, “Goodnight, H.” He turns quickly, practically running back to his room.

  
Harry’s left stunned, looking back at the closed door of Louis’ room. He looks back at the money in his hand, counts it. It’s enough to pay for the art materials he needs for his new project. His chest fills with such relief. He looks back at the door.

  
Knocks are heard from Louis’ door, and the owner groans quietly and covers his head with a pillow. Embarrassment has made its way up to him. Fuck, why did he even do that?

  
“L-Louis?” Harry asks, his voice small and shy.

  
Louis sighs, counts three, and opens the door, barely cracking it open.

  
“Uh..” Harry still has the money clutched in his hands, crumpling it, “Thank you.” His eyes are wide and still glassy, “U-Um.. I-I have this..” He’s struggling with his words, cheeks burning, “My boss, has um.. we have daily performances, in the-in the bar. I can bring you in? He pays very well.”

  
Louis, for the first time, actually considers it, sees Harry’s eyes. He’s basically pleading for Louis to take the job. Eventually, Louis nods, “I’ll think about it, Curly.”

 


	5. Chapter Five

**CHAPTER FIVE**

  
Harry looks up from the table he’s serving, eyes immediately locking onstage. He doesn’t know if Louis would come, since it’s Saturday and Louis left unusually early in the morning. It doesn’t mean Harry can’t hope. He sighs when he sees the stage empty and walks back to the kitchen. On his way there though, Billy pulls him back, “Boy, you said your friend would be here.”

“I-I know, I know.” Harry’s nerves are making him extra nervous, “I’ll call him.”

“Good.” Billy nods and lets him go.

Harry curses himself and fishes his phone from his pocket. He stays out of the way as their waiters make their way in and out of the kitchen. It’s quite a busy evening tonight, but shit _—where’s Louis?_

His call gets answered after a few rings and the first thing he does is to sigh in relief before greeting, “Lou, where are you?”

“I’m on my way, Curly. Meet me outside?” Louis asks.

Harry takes a second to answer, only because he knows he’ll get scolded if he skips his tables. But he needs to help Louis, “O-Okay. I’ll be right there.” He cuts off the call and pockets his phone quickly. He looks around, seeing a coworker, Carl, making his way over to the kitchen.

“Carl! Carl.” Harry grabs the guy by his elbow and drags him to the side.

“Harry, I have to—“

“Can you cover my tables, please?” Harry practically pleads, holding onto the guy’s hands. The latter starts to roll his eyes and shake his head, “Please! Just for a few minutes. I gotta—gotta call someone.”

Eventually, Carl caves with a huff and sends Harry off. Harry puts the tray down and practically rushes out the door. As he passes the guards, he gives them a polite smile before stepping into the cold. He stumbles into someone almost immediately and he gives a stunned shriek until he’s straightened up.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” He says to the, fortunately, kind customer before she pats his shoulder and walks off. Harry heaves a deep breath to calm himself down.

“Curly?”

He whips around to find Louis there. He’s covered in his coat and scarf, his guitar perched on his back. He smiles when Harry just stands there.

“Louis!” Harry exclaims, his chest filling with relief. He grabs Louis’ hand and begins pulling him inside, “Come on! I—“

“Hey, Curly, wait.” Louis pulls away and steps back reluctantly.

“Lou?” Harry asks confusedly as Louis pulls him to the side. He watches Louis rub his hands together. His eyes are darting everywhere and he seems restless, “A-Are you nervous?”

Louis’ eyes finally meet his, “That’s an understatement, H.”

Harry stifles a laugh, which turns into a giggle, “It’ll be fine, Lou. Trust me.” He holds out his hand.

Louis takes it reluctantly, but when he does, he takes it tightly. Harry gives him a comforting smile, and Louis releases a sigh before nodding, letting himself be pulled. Harry pulls him until he’s met with Billy, who practically chokes on his drink as he stands from his stool on the bar before offering his hand, “Billy Chapman. Harry’s boss.”

Louis shakes his hand off Harry’s to shake Billy’s, “Louis Tomlinson. Uh—Harry—“

“You’re..” Billy raises a curious eyebrow, “A Tomlinson? As in—“

“No.” Louis cuts him off, giving a strained smile, “Get that impression a lot, but no. Different family.” Harry’s hand lands on Louis’ back, rubbing comfortingly.

“Alright, then, sorry kid.” Billy says with a smile, “Well, I guess Harry walled you through the process. Just perform a few songs, then I can pay you directly. There’s the stage over there.” He points to the awaiting stage, “Harry can lead you there.”

So Harry does. Behind the small stage, though, Louis can’t find himself stepping in front of the crowd. It’s a smaller crowd than the one he performs in front of everyday, but this is a new environment so don’t freaking blame him.

“Hey.” Harry says from behind him, “You alright?”

Louis huffs. He takes a peek through the curtain and curses to himself, “Yeah.”

He hears Harry giggle quietly, “And you think telling me that can convince me?”

Louis notices the familiarity of his words and looks back to find Harry grinning bashfully, “Touchè, Curly.”

“Hey, but seriously.” Harry takes his arm and turns him around fully, “You’re gonna do great. And if you do, Billy might just make you a regular here.”

Louis looks and feels genuinely nervous, “I don’t know, Harry, I..” He trails off, shrugging weakly.

“Lou, you’ll do great. I’ll watch you from all angles.” Harry says, holding onto his shoulders, “Like literally ‘cause I’ll be roaming around serving and taking orders.”

That makes Louis laugh slightly, and he feels himself relax just a little bit, “I’ll be looking at you.” He starts to step out from behind the curtain.

“Sing for me, too.” Harry chirps happily before he’s off to continue working. Louis smiles and finally steps on stage. Some others are watching him, drinks and conversations ready. 

Unlike singing in the park, he doesn’t know if he should introduce himself. He stands there dumbly for a few seconds before clearing his throat loudly into the microphone. It reverberates throughout the restaurant, and he catches Harry jump from a table he’s grabbing the order from.

“Oh uh.. hi. Good evening, everybody.” He darts his eyes from every stranger. They’re just patiently waiting for him to continue, “Me name’s Louis, and I’m gonna be performing for you tonight.” He receives a few whoops and cheers, even Harry joins in with an overjoyed wave as Louis glances at him.

Louis feels much at ease after that, feels welcomed with the positive attention of the people around him. He strums his guitar a bit, testing it a bit before transitioning into a tune which the people slowly familiarized themselves with.

“I’ve been roaming around, always looking down at all I see.”

~○~

“You were amazing!” Harry practically squeals as he throws himself at Louis. The latter only manages to catch the lad at the last second, stumbling back a little back. He freezes and awkwardly pats Harry’s back.

“Thanks, mate.”

Harry pulls back then, eyes wide as he realized what he did. He releases a nervous chuckle before pulling away completely, rubbing his arm. His timidness is back, Louis notices, as he refuses to meet Louis’ eyes.

Louis smiles, “Let me buy you a drink.”

“Oh uh.. gotta work.” Harry sends Louis an apologetic look, clutching his notepad closer to himself, “You only have a few minutes break before you go onstage again, though. We can drink after?”

Louis chuckles, “Are you even legal?”

“I’m nineteen!” Harry exclaims, nearly crying out.

“Whatever you say.” Louis reaches over to ruffle Harry’s hair to which the boy yelps, batting his hand away. 

When Louis’ back onstage, there are less people because it’s also getting late. He sings as lively as he did when he first sang, his passion never dying out even if his fingers are calloused.

Sometime after, his job is over and he’s greeted with a smiling Billy. He gets a firm pat on the back, “You did great, lad! Let’s go to my office, yeah?” As Billy turns around to begin leading Louis to his office, Louis sweeps his eyes across the restaurant in search of Harry but finds no sign.

“Oh, Harry’s in the back. His shift’s over.” Billy answers Louis’ silent question. He opens the door to his office and Louis comes in, hesitating before plopping himself down on the armchair in front of the table. The office is small but not too small, just comfortable enough.

“Now,” Billy says as he sits on his own chair behind the table, “Harry’s... filled me in with your situation. You play at the Broadmoore, right? The park?”

“Yes, sir.” Louis nods.

“Billy, just Billy.” Billy waves a hand dismissively. Louis’ starting to like this man, “Well, your performance tonight got my customers hooked, and I want you to perform here regularly, but only if you’re up for it. You can do it every other day or every day. It’s up to you.”

Louis doesn’t know what to say. This... This is a great offer. He enjoyed performing tonight, and he really wouldn’t mind doing it again. Before he can say anything, though, Billy opens his drawer and grabs an envelope, “I’ll wait for your answer until tomorrow, so you better be sure. For now, you deserve this.” He slides it towards Louis across the table.

Louis reaches for it, smiling at the man, “Thank you so much.”

He exits Billy’s office feeling much lighter. But not completely yet. He searches around the restaurant until he sees his tall friend by the bar, waiting for him. Louis walks over, startling Harry as he lands a hand on the latter’s shoulder.

“Oh! Hi!” Harry greets. Besides looking tired, he still manages to smile brightly.

“Hey.” Louis smiles back, “Ready to go?” He notices Harry’s back in some regular clothes, a white shirt with yellow polka dots and some jeans. He’s also got a beanie and his coat on to keep him warm.

“Yeah, come on.” Harry stands from the stool and waves at the bartended goodbye before following Louis out the door, also bidding goodbye at the guards. Louis could only watch and wonder what Harry Styles is made of.

It’s a short walk to the bus stop, and halfway, Louis grabs Harry’s wrist to stop him. Harry looks at him curiously as Louis pulls them to the nearby convenient store. He lets go the moment they enter, going straight to the racks.

“What?” Louis asks as Harry stares at him, “You told me we can drink after we’re done.” He grabs a few bottles of beer to prove his point.

Harry only laughs, acting out his consent as he ducks to the next aisle to grab a few chips. Louis just got his pay so he’s gonna spend it right.

In the bus, they carry two six-pack beers and more chips than their salt intake can endure. It’s gotten quite late, so the bus is mostly empty. Louis bumps his shoulders with Harry’s lightly, “I don’t know if I’ve thanked you yet..” He watches as a smile slowly spreads Harry’s lips, “But thank you. If I already did, then... I’m saying thank you again.”

“I owed you one, and you deserved it.” Harry praises.

“Did...” Louis hesitates, “You already sent the money back to your parents?”

Harry nods. He sighs but his smile is still intact, “Yeah. But since you gave me some, it’s more than enough to buy me the materials I need for my project.”

“And now you need to work on the actual project.” Louis chuckles.

Harry sighs, “Yeah, more sleepless nights.”

“But no worrying tonight, yeah?” Louis nudges him, looking serious, “I want to celebrate tonight.”

~○~

“Why do we need glasses?” Harry asks, shooing Louis away as the latter walks into the livingroom with two glasses in hand. Harry gives him a disapproving look that Louis snorts and returns them. 

Harry’s sat on the floor after having the coffee table pushed to the side so they have more room. He’s already got the Cheetos open and two of his fingers covered in cheese as he munches on them.

“It’d be great if we had a film.” Louis grunts as he sits down across from Harry.

“I have music!” Harry suggests, grabbing his phone. Soon enough, music wafts from the speakers. It’s not much, but it’s enough to fill the silence. It’s not a surprise, but Louis lets out a chuckle when The Beatles’ In My Life begins to play. Harry pouts.

Louis smiles and opens a bottle, handing it to Harry. The latter only whoops and takes a quick swig, “Hmm.. that feels good.” He says.

“You’ve drank before?” Louis asks, opening himself a bottle.

“Once or twice.” Harry shrugs, “Drunk me is uh.. quite reckless.”

“Can’t imagine.” Louis really can’t. Harry’s generally shy and so blushy and a reckless Harry is hard to see, but probably fun.

“I was at a party once,” Harry begins to tell his story, his large hands making odd gestures in the air, “Totally out of my mind. Next thing I knew I was giving a body shot.”

Louis chuckles, yup, can’t imagine it, “To who?”

“I don’t even know!” Harry giggles, “It’s ridiculous.”

“I can tell.” 

“How about you?” Harry asks, eyebrows raised in a curious manner.

“It’s embarrassing, because I’m more of a... mopey, emotional drunk.” Louis informs. He remembers Nick’s stories about him every single time, “Most of the time, when I’m really really pissed off.” He mostly drank because of his father, so that’s probably why he’s so emotional.

“What about your father?” Harry asks. He’s leaning a bit forward now, still clutching his bottle.

“Did I say that out loud?” Louis asks back, making Harry snort.

“Wouldn’t ask if you didn’t.” 

“Well,” Louis takes a deep breath and a quick swig. He hasn’t told anyone about his father except for Nick. So this would be a first in a very long time, “Let’s just say he was an ass.”

“You can elaborate more on that if you want.” Louis glances at the lad. Harry looks like he’s on his way to being tipsy. 

“I will if you’d just wait.” Louis snaps back playfully, “Anyway, let’s cut the story short. He cheated on my mum when she was sick and I was fifteen. She was sick for a very long time and when she died he just... let his dick loose or whatever ‘cause next thing I know he’s bringing a new woman home and..—“ He ends in a shrug, “Just horrible.”

_Louis looks down on the wood of the dining table, hands fisting the fabric of his trousers until his short nails are screaming for him to stop. Across the table, Louis’ father, George, slams a hand on the table, “Boy, are you gonna eat or am I gonna make you?”_

_From beside him, the whore sing-songs, dripping with sarcasm, “Be a good boy, Louis.”_

_“Fuck off.” Louis’ chair screeches as he stands up abruptly, leaving the table._   
_He’d barely crossed the room before his arm was being gripped, “Don’t be disrespectful.” His father cups his jaw roughly, pointing a finger, “You are gonna eat, or you’re gonna end up like your dyin' mother.”_

_Louis lets out a scream, pushing him away._

“Oh, Lou.” Harry says. When Louis looks up, he’s surprised to see tears on Harry’s eyes, not yet spilling but dangerously on the edge.

“Curly.” Louis chuckles, “It’s... It’s fine. It happened a long time ago.”

“Still!” Harry insists. He puts his bottle down and wipes his eyes, “That’s so horrible. Y-You don’t deserve any of it.”

Louis gives him a sad smile, “I know that, H, but shit happens, yeah?”

Harry sniffles and nods. Then he’s pouting as he grabs a handful of chips and shoves them in his mouth. Louis has to bite back a laugh, “You told me to celebrate tonight!” The curly lad accuses.

“I’m not the one who made myself cry, Curly.” Louis laughs. It’s more than amusing to watch Harry. He’s only finished one bottle and he’s already tipsy. A drinking Harry is probably such a rarity. Louis raises his bottle, “Come on, cheers with me, then.”

Harry tosses his empty bottle to the side and grabs another one, holding it out to Louis, “Open it for me first.”

God, this kid knows how to be adorable now, doesn’t he?

After a few more bottles, both boys find themselves lying on the floor with their mess of bottles and chips above their heads. Their legs are hitched up the couch with their backs pressed against the floor. They’re watching the ceiling with their glassy eyes and red cheeks.

“Look.” Harry slurs. His hands are up in the air, fingers pointing towards the blank ceiling, “It’s.. Big Diper.”

“You mean, Dipper?” Louis corrects, narrowing his eyes at the ceiling, “I-It’s quite blurry f’me. C’n you point?”

Harry huffs and his hands slump to his side as he pushes himself up on one elbow, “H-How can you not.. see?!” 

Louis’ hazy blue eyes roam around the sky above him. It’s so weird, why aren’t they on grass if they’re under the stars? “Where, Hazza?”

Harry groans again then he sloppily turns on his head. He manages to balance himself before he moves both his hands to frame Louis’ cheeks, tilting his head a little, “See? Big Diaper.”

“Dipper!” Louis corrects again.

“Hmm..” Harry hums, patting Louis’ cheek, “I’ll let.. you win. “ He lays his chin down on Louis’ chest, then, yawning to himself. 

Louis lifts his head a little, “H-Harry?”

Harry gasps and sits up, knocking Louis’ chin in the process making the latter yelp and sob, turning to his side. Harry had stood up to his knees during Louis’ dramatic episode, and he gasps again as he sees Louis’ state, “L-Louis?! You’ve been s-shot!”

In retaliation, Louis gasps, “W-Where?!”

That sends Harry giggling, doubling over Louis’ body as he practically shrieks his laughter, “J-Just kidding.” He giggles some more before calming down. He gets himself comfortable, resting his chin on Louis’ arm, “Wouldn’t do that to you, Lou.” He giggles again, “But my kissies can heal your shot wound!”

Louis turns on his back confusedly, letting Harry’s head rest on his chest when the latter loses his balance, “Thought I was healed?”

Harry ignores him, then, placing a loud smack on Louis’ clothed chest, over his presumed gunshot wound, “There!”

“Silly Curly.” Louis sighs lovingly, “The one that’s hurt is my chin, you dolt.”

“Oh! Sorry!” Harry scoots higher and places a clumsy kiss on Louis’ chin, nearly missing. He lands it perfectly on the point of it, doubling the kisses.

Both extremely pissed off their minds, both men only laughs at that. It doesn’t even seem surprising when suddenly Louis surges up and kisses Harry straight on the lips. The latter only gasps then resolves into more laughter, kissing Louis back and pushing himself closer to the older lad. It’s not very ideal—on the dirty floor, with bottles and litters around them, with their breaths smelling of alcohol, and sweat covering their skin.   
No, it’s not at all ideal.

~○~

Morning came, and Harry’s overwhelmed with the heat surrounding him, on him. The air feels so thick, God. He groans and shifts a little bit, only to find out that he can’t, like his limbs have grown numb or something. He opens his eyes, shutting them as he takes in the brightness of the livingroom.

Eventually, he opens them fully—

What the fuck.

Fuck.

Shit.

Harry’s swerved into immediate panic as he finally comes to earth, and to his senses. He’s pressed against the back of the couch, his own back sticky and so so sweaty from being against it for so long. And shit, Louis’ lying right beside him. Their faces are so close and—how did they manage to fit on a couch?

Harry’s questions are answered, partially, as he looks down. And okay, he now has even more questions. His legs are entwined together with Louis and okay, okay. Naked. Everyone is naked. He’s seeing and feeling Louis’ cock pressing against his thigh and okay. What the _fuck_.

Harry only gets to lift his head before the sweet, sweet pang of hangover hits him. He groans loudly, can’t help it, and that’s what shook Louis awake.

Louis starts with a few frowns, before those eyes open. Harry’s almost afraid what he’s going to say, and his suspicions are right when Louis scrambles back to his feet, hands covering his bits as he looks around, “What—“

The livingroom is a mess. There are bottles everywhere, even a cracked one in the corner, there are chips scattered around and the couch is even at an off angle. And okay, their clothes are tossed in the most random places near.

“Oh no.” Harry breathes out, then he takes his time to sit up before he snatches his boxers from the floor to slide them up. When he looks up, Louis’ also clad in his own pair and he’s pacing about, “U-Uh..” Harry feels himself burning. In embarrassment, maybe. In pure and utter humiliation and the possible end of a friendship? Probably.

Louis eventually turns to him, his eyes look glassy and tired and he has messy bedhair and Harry tries not to get hard at that. “What happened last night?” 

“I-I don’t..” Harry trails off, gaping when he sees the state of Louis’ chest.   
Louis follows his gaze confusedly, and then he also curses in disbelief as he sees marks all over him. On his neck, on his collarbones, on his nipple, God, there’s even one right on his hip.

“Oh my God.” Harry covers his mouth, and for a second he wonders how could his mouth do that when he can’t even talk to Louis without stuttering.

“This is...” Louis shakes his head, hands raising up to grab his hair—there are nail marks on his side, and Harry doesn’t want to look at Louis’ back, “God, this is fucking bad.” Louis repeats it like a mantra as he paces back and forth.

Harry notices the ache in his back, and especially the ache in his butthole. “L-Lou?” Harry asks, almost scared. He can feel himself slipping back into his shy demeanor when he first met Louis.

“Fuck, Harry, what the hell did we do?” Louis sighs loudly, almost irritably, “This isn’t supposed to happen. Not now, and not ever.”

Harry looks down. He finds a mark on his thigh.

“Shit.” Louis continues to panic.  
Harry stands from the couch, ignoring the sting of his body, “I-I’m gonna shower.”

“How can you be so calm after this?” Louis asks in disbelief.

Harry doesn’t look at him when he answers, “Because I-I...” He shakes his head, “I don’t want to talk about this.” He flees for the bathroom before Louis can reply. Inside, he stands under the shower.

So much for a good morning.

 


	6. Chapter Six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you guys enjoy!!

**CHAPTER SIX**

  
“So why are you coming with me, then?”

Nick’s hesitant as he asks, eyebrows furrowed as he pockets his hands. He looks towards his best mate who seems to be having his internal battle as well.

“Huh?”

“You wanna talk about something?” Nick asks again.

“No.” Louis denies, shrugging, “Why? Is it a crime to come with my best mate?”

“Alright...” Nick cringes. He really doesn’t get it right now, “But for the record, you never come to my dorm. At all.”

“And?” Louis asks. He’s simply staring ahead, completely unabashed by the whole thing.

Eventually, they reach Nick’s door, and Nick unlocks it and welcomes Louis in. Inside, Louis lands face first on Nick’s mattress, hopefully that’s his mattress. Nick only removes his bag and slips off his shoes, “Alright, look at me.”

Louis releases a muffled sigh and turns his head to the side to look at his bestfriend. Nick crosses his arms, “What’s the deal? You’re acting weird. You want to tell me something.”

“I don’t.” Louis says.

“Then why are you here?” Nick challenges, “Don’t give me that bullshit, either. It’s Monday and you’re supposed to be working right now instead you’re here.”

Louis still looks just as serious, and Nick would be scared if Louis is a stranger to him. Well, he isn’t, “I just wanna rest today.”

Nick hesitates, but he nods nonetheless, “Okay...”

“So I’m here.” Louis says simply.

Ignoring the unsettling feeling in his gut yet not letting it go, Nick sighs and admits defeat, “Alright, whatever.” He pushes Louis until the scoots over before sitting down beside him. Nick fishes out his phone to begin texting. The last time they hung out was like months ago so they don’t really know what to do to each other right now.

As Nick texts and does everything he can with his phone while letting Louis be, the lad eventually mutters, “Something happened.” Nick barely catches it but he does over the stillness of the room.

Nick drops his phone, “And what is that?”

Louis doesn’t speak. It only startles both of them when the door swings open. Nick’s roommate, Tom, gives a guilty grin before fetching something from his table. He pauses when he sees Louis, “Hey, Lou.”

“Hey.” Louis gives a wave, or what seems like a wave.

Nick shoos Tom off, and eventually gets the latter to leave. Nick turns back to Louis, “Hey, tell me what happened.”

Louis takes a while, but he sits up and leans against the wall beside Nick’s bed, “Harry happened.”

“What? What happened?” Nick asks, eyes wide. He leans forward until he’s basically at Louis’ face.

“The fu—go away.” Louis pushes him away with a large scowl. It’s clear that he and Nick don’t go so well physically.

“Then tell me! You’re killing me with the suspense.”

Louis releases a heavy breath, running a hand through his hair, “I slept with Harry.” He proves his point as he pulls down his collar a bit, showing several marks on his collarbones and chest which are beginning to fade. He then lifts up his shirt slightly to reveal a lone mark on his hip.

Nick gaped at him, “Holy shit, Harry did that?” He can’t believe his ears, “Harry as in the bright-eyed curly, adorable boy? As in your roommate Harry? Your—“

“How many Harry’s do you think I know?” Louis snaps.

Nick shuts his mouth, “Well, okay, that Harry. But... how?”

“We were drunk as hell, mate.” Louis really looks bothered by the idea.

“And you don’t remember a single thing?”

“Nope.” Louis shakes his head.

“So... why are you stressing about this?” Nick asks carefully, actually scared to pull the pin off Louis’ grenade.

Louis starts with a sharp, “Because Harry’s...” then it slowly transitions to silence. He stares at his lap for a moment before speaking again, “Because it could lead to a mess.”

“A mess, how?” Nick asks, and he doesn’t quit asking Louis will smack him in the head.

“He’s young, Grimshaw, and fuck me for saying this but I don’t want him to think that there should be something between us after that.” Louis says. It’s his longest reply, which shows how worried he is about this entire thing.

“So... you think Harry’s naive and all that?” Nick questions again.

Louis glares but eventually answers, “No, but I just don’t want him thinking that.”

“Huh.” Nick leans back against the wall, his lips pursed, “It’s like you’re so sure that Harry would be thinking that. Are you sure you’re not just saying that to convince yourself or something?”

Louis only picks at his jeans, refusing to answer. Nick shoots straight up, gaping at him, “Oh my God, no way.”

Louis frowns at him, “What?”

“You like him.” Nick points, still gaping as if the confirmation is right before his eyes, “You like Harry.”

“No, I don’t.” Louis rolls his eyes. His collar feels hot.

Nick seems unconvinced, cackling loudly, “You like him!”

“I don’t.” Louis hisses.

“Oh my God.” Nick grins to himself.

Louis huffs, getting more frustrated, “Did you not just hear what I said?”

“Why do you sound so affected, man?” Nick chuckles, completely unaffected by Louis’ simmering anger.

“Because I don’t want it to be true!” Louis snaps. He pushes himself off the bed and slips his shoes on record time, ignoring Nick’s calls as he grabs his bag and leaves the room, making sure to slam the door closed while he’s at it.

Stupid Nick.

 

~○~

 

Harry’s got his canvas propped against the wall on the floor at an angle, the sleeves of his sweater rolled to his upper arms as he holds the big brush in his hands. He just started the first layer of the background of his painting. It’s only a true blessing that Billy let him skip work so he could focus on his project entirely. He pulls back a little bit to examine it before getting started again, hand talented and careful on every stroke. He’s sat on his knees, back lightly hunched. He has his used and past exam papers and some newspapers on the floor to prevent the mess he’s expecting, since there is not one painting where he didn’t go messy.

He’s had the flat all to himself for approximately two hours before the door opens and shuts close. Harry tries his best not to look over his shoulder, just dips his brush in the paint on his palette before continuing to work on it.

He ignores the twinge in his chest as he hears Louis’ footsteps towards his own room before the door closes with a firm click.

He’s not necessarily expecting for things to go all dandy and happy after that awkward encounter, but Harry can’t help but feel like Louis’ angry at him or something. He did sound so upset when they woke up.

But Harry didn’t have the same reaction. He’s pretty sure his heart fluttered for like a second before Louis began speaking that morning but no. What the hell is happening?

He works on his project after Louis’ out to go work, and even when Louis got home.

He gets no word spoken to him.

Frustratedly, he begins to clean up after himself, taking his brushes to the sink to rinse the paint off (goodluck to the next water bill) before he makes sure his unfinished painting is gonna make it through the night untainted with absolutely anything. At some point, he passes by Louis’ closed door and he’s aching to knock.

Louis probably won’t want that. He probably thinks Harry took advantage of him or something. Harry would never do such thing, but Louis can think it.

Harry shakes the thought out of his head. He distracts himself by showering before he goes right to bed. He’s got a whole week ahead of him.

 

~○~

 

Harry grumbles under his breath as Niall catches up to him, placing a hand on his shoulder. His friend has been asking him to come drink with a few friends from their class, and Harry was quick to turn it down.

“Ni.” Harry huffs. He shrugs off Niall’s hand, “I’ve got tons to do. I have a painting to finish.”  
“The deadline is in about... like two months!” Niall protests with a pout. His persistence was something that couldn’t compare to anything.

“Which is the least time you could get in painting.” Harry frowns.

“Please!” Niall grabs Harry’s arm finally, stopping him from walking any further, “We just want you to have fun because you’re so busy all the time. You deserve to have fun, too, you know?” He reaches up to ruffle Harry’s hair.  
Oh, Harry had fun alright. The mark on his thigh was still there, just about to completely fade. It’s been a week since that very day it all went down. They still aren’t talking to each other. And well.

It doesn’t seem like Louis misses Harry so Harry will just say he doesn’t miss him either.

“Mate, come on.” Harry sighs. Thing is, he also wants to go. But he’s real busy right now.

“Just one night.” Niall looks at him with his pleading eyes.

Harry rolls his, sighing hard enough to let Niall know that he really doesn’t want this (but he does), “Alright, jeez.”

“Yes!” Niall exclaims happily, “We’ll pick you up at your flat, yeah? Text me the address!” He’s gone before Harry can take it all back.

Harry gets home as quick as he can. He got home at around three, and Niall won’t be picking him up until eight so he has to get at least some progress done before heading out. Harry doesn’t even wash his face as he got home—just threw his bag on the couch and began working.

He’s busy working with his blending when he feels a presence behind him. He frowns; he’s sure he didn’t hear the door open. He glances back behind him either way, trying to hide his surprise when he finds Louis there.

“Y-Yes?” He hates himself for stuttering so much around Louis.

Louis just pockets his hands, though, “Nice painting.” He then heads to his room.

Harry turns back in his chair, sighing loudly. Now he really just wants to leave.

He gets ready at around six-thirty, taking his time to scrub the paint that’s splattered on his hands and some on his face. He’s already thrown the messed newspapers up so all he has to do is get himself ready.

After getting dressed, he combs his hair up to keep it off his face before he grabs his phone to shoot a text to Niall.

 

~○~

 

Louis finishes the last of his pastry before shoving the paper bag in the bin. He wipes his mouth then freezes, just now noticing the emptiness of the flat. He checks the time on his phone. It’s a bit late now and usually Harry would be getting ready for bed. He’s not on his couch, nor is he at the bathroom. And really, that’s the only two places he could be in this shitty flat.

Louis pushes his worry at the back of his mind. Harry’s an adult; he can do whatever he wants and if he decided to fuck off to anywhere then Louis shouldn’t be concerned.

But he is. Fuck, he is.

Over the course of a few months, Louis managed to be friends with a roommate he didn’t want in the first place. And he ruined it all in one night. He doesn’t remember who made the first move, but if there’s ever a sliver of chance that it’s him, then it’d make him feel like utter shit. Taking advantage of Harry like that...

Louis huffs and shakes his head.

He can’t face Harry right now. The only reason why Harry’s staying is because of the flat, even if it’s not at all worth staying in.

Series of stumbling footsteps from outside catches his attention along with murmured curses. He frowns and cracks the door, but it suddenly opens from the outside. He stumbles back, eyes widening at the sight of two boys holding onto a very drunk Harry. Or a very drunk Harry holding onto them.

Louis stands straight, “What the hell happened?”

He must’ve been sharp, because the two boys flinches before one answers. He’s awfully built, “We’re Harry’s friends. I’m Liam.”

The other blonde boy raises his free hand and says, “Niall.”

“Harry.” Harry slurs happily, seemingly heavier by the way the two boys grunt.

“Put him on the couch.” Louis says as he fixes Harry’s blankets and pillow.

The boys dump Harry on the couch and Louis steadies him as he tries to roll over.

“We’re really sorry.” The blonde, Niall, says, scratching his head, “Tried to get him to stop drinkin’ but he’s uh..”

“Reckless.” Louis finishes.

“You’re.. Louis, yeah?” Liam asks hesitantly, “Harry’s been talking ‘bout you.”

Louis looks back at Harry, who now has his upper half gradually slipping to the floor. He sighs, “I am.”

“U-Uh..” When Louis looks back at the lads, Niall quickly stops nudging Liam. Liam clears his throat, “We better get going now.”

Before they turn, though, Louis says, “Why is Harry the only one drunk?” He raises an eyebrow. “You two look very sober.”

“Don’t get the wrong idea, please.” Niall says, “Harry’s just weak when it comes to alcohol.”

Louis looks at them both. They look genuine enough for it to be true. Besides, Louis’ seen them around with Harry. He nods, then, “I’ll tell him you told me he was weak.” He then closes the door, locking it.

Harry’s managed to slide completely on the floor, limbs sprawled out anywhere and head against the leg of the coffee table. Louis would’ve laughed, but he knows how painful Harry’s hangover would be.

Louis kneels beside him, nudging him gently, “Hey, Curly.” He repeats, “Harry.”

Harry twitches awake, eyes half-closed as his head lolls to the side, “Wha..?”

“I’m gonna get you to bed.” Louis says. He bends down to hook a hand under Harry’s back and another one under his knees. He hoists him up and carefully lays him down back on the couch. Harry smacks his lips before falling right back to sleep on his side. Louis almost wants to bring him in a much more comfortable surface. Like his bed. Well, it’s not that comfortable but it’s better. Just so he can sleep well.

Louis only sighs loudly and goes to the kitchen to grab some water and medicine. As he makes his way back, he hears an awful gag. He hurries to the livingroom. Harry’s hunched over the side. Louis winces and puts down the glasses before steadying Harry to sit. There’s vomit on the couch as well as the floor. Well shit.

“Y’alright?” Louis asks, bending down to at least catch Harry’s eyes, “No more vomiting, alright? I’m gonna clean this up.” He grimaces as he sees the yellow substance on Harry’s cheek as well. He makes Harry lean on the arm of the couch as he cleans up the floor and couch with an old rag. He would’ve taken only five minutes if it wasn’t for Harry leaning over the dirty side every second.

“Stay...still.” Louis sighs heavily as Harry only whines on his shoulder. Louis groans and wraps Harry’s arms around his shoulders before grabbing the back of his thighs. He hoists him up, bouncing them a little. Harry’s positively heavy.

He tries not to swoon when Harry pouts suddenly, whining again.

“God, you’re heavy.” Louis tries not to drop him as he makes his way to his room. He kneels on the bed and lets go of Harry’s thighs.

Harry whines again, clinging to Louis. His weight makes Louis lose his balance, but Louis catches himself at the last second, hands on the bed.  
Only did Harry let go, giggling into the sheets. Louis looks at him in disbelief. This boy is something. Drinking two nights in a row. He tries not to stare too much, but it’s hard when their faces are inches apart and Harry’s looking adorable doing what he’s doing.

He goes back out to clean the livingroom. When everything’s done, he grabs a clean towel and wets it before bringing it to Harry. The latter is once again conked out on the bed so Louis wipes the smeared vomit on his cheek and chin before tossing the towel back to the sink.

When he goes back, Harry’s hogged his pillow, curling to the best of his drunken abilities can muster. He looks awfully cuddly. Louis simply sighs and removes Harry boots, lining them up by the doorway. He goes back out to grab one of the couch’ cushions. He lies down on the floor of his room, a reasonable distance from his bed Harry is laying on.

There’s no way he can be comfortable in this floor, but who cares.

“Hm..” Harry starts shifting around on the bed, lolling his head from side to side, “Lou..is.”

Louis sacrifices his need to sleep in favor of watching Harry’s drunken antics.

Harry continues slurring his name, digging his face into Louis’ pillow. Louis prays a silent prayer about not wanting any vomit on it, “Miss.. you Lou.”

Louis feels his heart throb. He turns to his side and leans on his elbow.  
Harry continues to whine into his pillow, “So.. so mean...”

“What made me mean?” It’s probably pointless, talking to a drunk, but this is the first Harry’s spoken to him in days so he’ll take it.

“You!” Harry gasps, “Avoiding.. m-me. Not bad.. bed.” He pouts, then.

“Not what?”

“Not b-bad in bed!”

Louis doesn’t even remember a thing that night, but that’s not at all why he’s been embarrassed to talk to Harry.

“It’s dangerous, y’know.” Louis sighs and turns to his stomach, resting his cheek on the back of his hand, “Friends shouldn’t sleep with each other.”

Harry doesn’t say anything aside from a few slurs. Louis checks, “Harry?”  
Harry clumsily turns to his other side and continues to snore.

 

~○~

 

Harry wakes himself up, eyes squinting. He feels like absolute shit. He’s—

Also in a different room. He jolts to a sitting position, managing to bite down his groan at the sudden pain on his head. The first thing he realizes is that he’s on a bed instead of a couch.

He peers out the open doorway and sees the couch. Shit, this is Louis’ room, isn’t it? But where’s Louis?

Harry stands, stumbling until his feet meet the floor. He sighs and walks out, his head still throbbing. He wanders into the kitchen, and he immediately catches sight a note by the sink with some medicine.

_School today, didn’t wanna wake u up -L_

Shit. “Shit.” He darts off to his couch, scrambling for wherever his phone is. It managed to have dropped on the floor and he snatches it. Shit. Really shit.

He’s two hours late.

He ignores his head as he runs to the bathroom. He almost cracks his head on the tile but give him a break. He finishes getting ready in twenty minutes, a good record for someone who has a hungover. He gets to school when it was his breaktime, and he missed one class. It isn’t so bad, he thinks.  
He sees Louis making his way to the cafeteria, and Harry ducks to the bathroom. He still looks like shit despite having showered. He splashes some water on his face and brushes his hair back.

“What are you doing here?” Harry jumps a little.

Louis’ standing beside him. He’s frowning but he doesn’t look mad.

“To study.” Harry answers curtly. The other lads inside the bathroom look at them so Harry walks past Louis to get out. He needs some food in his system.

“I thought you’d stay in. Hangover and all that.” Louis follows him nonchalantly, his hands in his pockets, “Niall said you were weak at alcohol.”

The comment would’ve offended him. It really would’ve, but defending for his honour isn’t his exact mood right now, “You didn’t wake me up.”

“Figured it’d be too early.”

Harry pushes through the doors of the cafeteria. Louis’ still hot on his heels, “You’re alright, though?”

“Uh..” Harry clears his throat, “Y-Yeah, thanks for the medicine.”

“Anytime.” Louis says. He sighs, “I’m gonna go.” He doesn’t wait for Harry to answer. He whips around to the other direction and walks away.

“Haz!” Harry hears his name being called, and he sees Niall waving his arm on the air as he sits on the table with Liam. Harry goes to them, sitting heavily beside Niall and resting his head on the table.

“You’re alive.” Liam chuckles, tossing some chips in his mouth. Harry glares at him, because he doesn’t look like a dying seal.

“We though last night was your end.” Niall supplies, “You were so out of it, mate.”

“How bad?”

“Dancing on tables.” Liam supplies, sending Niall a knowing look.

“Dancing _under_ tables.” Niall smirks, “And you probably seduced half of the club.”

That has Harry raising his head up, “I didn’t get laid, did I?” At Liam’s ‘no’, he sighs in relief.

“That’s the first time I ever saw anyone relieved about not getting laid.” Niall says and he should really keep his mouth shut while eating, “But hey.” Harry peeks at him from his arm, “You were quite... enlightening for the most pat you’re drunk.”

“Dancing around tables is enlightening?”

“Danci—No!” Niall laughs, and he continues doing so.

“What we mean is,” Liam supplies instead, “How come you didn’t tell us about this Louis guy?”

Niall straightens up immediately, “Who was your damn flatmate all along.”

“What’d I say?” Harry dreads it, but he really needs to ask.

“Well, for the most part, you kept saying you miss him.” Niall points out,

“Like.. all over the place, man. You probably called me Louis for a whole hour and all you did was cuddle me.”

“Oh God.” Harry groans.

“So, what’s the catch?” Niall asks, nudging him, “Do you like the guy? Because we met him and all, and he seems cool.”

“And real.”

Harry breathes heavily and sits up straight, “No.” Before they can butt in, he repeats, “No. He’s a friend, and just a friend.” The bell rings, then, so he snatches his things and leaves the cafeteria.

God, he didn’t even eat.


	7. Chapter Seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry it took a while to update. hope you enjoy!

**CHAPTER SEVEN**

  
There’s a series of knocks on the door. From the kitchen, Louis stirs his tea as Harry gets up to answer it. They’re still not speaking like they used to and everything seems awkward, but they move around each other now—eating, etcetera. Granted, there’s only such little space around the flat but Louis’ taking it.

“U-Uh... Louis?”

Louis looks back to see Harry by the doorway, looking hesitant, “There’s someone at the door looking for you.”

Louis frowns and leaves his tea, “Who is it?” His question answers itself as he sees a too familiar standing by his front door. He recognizes her smirk, her raised eyebrows, her expensive clothes and jewelry and how she dangled it in front of Louis’ eyes when he didn’t have anything to eat and when his mother is on her deathbed without any medicine.

“What are you doing here?” Louis steps up to her, fists clenching.

“I-I’ll be..” Harry tries to get around him to get outside, “You can talk he—“

“No.” Louis grabs his elbow and pulls him back inside, “We’re talking outside. Stay here.” 

So Louis walks out the door and stays on the corridor with the woman he despised most, “What?” 

His stepmother looks calm despite Louis’ persistent glares, “I need to talk to you.”

“Make it quick.” Louis snaps, “You’re lucky I even made time to talk to you.”

“Your father’s ill.” Sandra drops the bomb. For the first time, he sees how vulnerable she can be in her eyes, lacking those fierceness she held back when he was a kid, “Stage four, lung cancer.”

Louis feels his breath hitch. His father’s ill, probably dying and he doesn’t even know how to react. He doesn’t feel any tears coming, because why should he? That man was the one who made his life a living hell, why his mum died. He shouldn’t anything towards this man, “And?”

Sandra’s face falls at his cold response. No matter how problematic she looks now, she’s still the reason why their family went to utter shit, “He wants to see you.” She reaches into her bag and holds out a calling card, “Please see him.”

Louis looks at the card, “He doesn’t need to see me.” He makes his way around her but she grips his elbow, “What?” He hisses, snatching his arm back.

“Please.” She begs, “He says he needs to see you. It’s his final wish.”

_“Louis.” Beth sits beside Louis. They’re out in the backyard, and the much younger kids are running around playing footie. Louis can’t seem to find himself playing anymore._

_He forces a smile at Beth, “Hey.”_

_She smiles back, “There’s someone looking for you.”_

_His smile drops, blinking, “Don’t.” He stands up, begins to walk away._

_“Sweetheart, it’s your father.” Beth calls for him, following him clos behind,_

_“He says he has something very important to say.”_

_“No.” Louis stops, clenching his fists, “I don’t wanna see him.”_

Louis feels his anger flare up inside him, “Tell him he doesn’t have the right to even think of it.” He faces her, “Tell him I don’t want to see him. Tell him he can’t have what he wants because all I wanted was my mum to get better and he didn’t give me it. Tell him that his wife fucking died because he spent all his money on you.” He chokes on a sob. “Tell him he doesn’t deserve a son. He didn’t deserve mum.” His voice catches in his throat and the dam bloody breaks. He quickly turns and darts back inside the flat, slamming the door behind him.

“L-Lou?” Harry asks hesitantly but Louis ignores him, pushing past Harry to get to his room.

~○~

Harry presses his ears against the door. He hears Louis sobs from the inside of his room, nearly rattling the whole flat with how sad they were. Harry feels his chest ache, because Louis is possibly the strongest person he’s ever known. Seeing him break down like this... it’s heartbreaking.

His hands ache to knock, but Louis needs some time to think. He didn’t hear any of the conversation but if Louis wants him to know, Louis will tell it to him.

There’s a knock on the door moments later, and Harry hesitantly tears himself from Louis’ door before opening the front. The same woman is there. Her eyes look red and swollen and it’s too obvious that she’s crying.  
Harry feels some sort of protectiveness wash over him, glaring at the woman, ”What do you need?”

She seems startled by the sharpness of his tone, but she only sniffles and hands out a card. Harry blinks and hesitantly takes it. The woman only sighs and says, “Thank you.” With a rough voice. She leaves after that. 

In the card is a number and a name of an hospital. Harry looks at Louis’ door and back at the card, he sighs and pockets it.

Louis doesn’t come out when the sun has set, nor did he when Harry knocked on his door to ask him what’s for dinner, nor did he when Harry knocked again to inform him that it’s ready.

Harry eats alone. It’s silent inside Louis’ room, which is probably even worse. At least when there’s crying, Harry knows what Louis’ doing. Silence is scary. After eating, he grabs Louis’ plate and walks back to Louis’ room, knocking on the locked door, “Lou, I have your dinner.” He’d leave it at the kitchen, but he wants to see Louis eat. Or at least take the plate from him.

Louis doesn’t answer. Harry nods to himself, “O-Okay. I’ll just... put it in the kitchen.” So he does. He spends the night adding progress to his painting, all the while glancing back at Louis’ door. Even after three hours, Louis’ still not coming out.

Harry grows tired at the fourth hour, packing up his brushes and messy papers. He takes his time cleaning his brushes so he would catch Louis if the latter ever plans on coming out.

Harry slips into his couch, clutching his pillow to his chest. No matter what position he shifts into, he’s wide awake. Should he try sleeping on the floor, no no. He’s not even getting up to try. He knows there’s a whole other reason.  
He’s scrolling on his phone an hour later when the door to Louis’ room clicks and finally opens. Harry scrambles to turn his phone off, pretending to sleep.

“I saw your light, Curly.” Louis says, his voice rough and scratchy.

Harry peeks one eyes open. The light in the kitchen is open. He stands and makes his way towards it. Louis’ stirring himself a cup of tea. He looks up when he notices Harry standing awkwardly on the doorway.

“Hi..” Harry plays with the hem of his shirt.

Louis offers him a small smile, “Y’ alright?” God, Harry should be the one asking him that. Under the light, he can see Louis’ swollen and tired eyes. 

"I-I.. yeah, of course.” Harry gulps, “You?”

Louis stops stirring, carrying his mug to the table where he uncovers his plate, “Hungry.” He stands up again to grab a spoon and fork.

“It’s potatoes.” Harry supplies. Louis hums, “With bacon and cheese.” When Louis hums again, Harry practically squeaks out, “Is it good?”

Louis glances up at him with a smile, “Thanks, Curly.”

Harry goes to turn around, but he curses himself because he knows he’d only be tossing and turning around his couch. So instead he finds himself sitting down across from Louis, who looks up, “Want some?”

“Oh, nono.” Harry’s surprised, “It’s all yours. I-I’m full.”

“Suit yourself.” Louis continues to eat.

Harry watches him do so. He must be looking real creepy, but his curiosity is killing him. He reaches into his pocket, taking a moment to himself before sliding the card towards Louis.

Louis glances at him and the card before leaning back on his chair, sipping his tea, “I’m guessing you have questions?” He finishes the last of his food before carrying the plate to the sink.

Harry blushes, fumbling with his words, “I-I... there’s..—“ He huffs to himself frustratedly. While stuttering and making a fool of himself, Louis has already sat back in front of him.

“Go on.” Louis says patiently. His eyes still look so swollen from the crying.

“Who was that?” Harry finally asks.

“My stepmother, Sandra.” Louis answers neatly.

“And.. w-what did she come in here for?” Harry asks, almost afraid to ask. If it was too personal, Louis would probably say it.

“Just.. told me some news.” Louis shrugs weakly. He purses his lips, “Don’t worry your head off because of my problems, Harry.”

Harry looks down, “I just wanted to help.” He looks back at Louis, “You were crying in there for literally hours. Something tells me that something’s wrong.”

Louis’ looking at him with a small smile. It’s small and sad, and Harry could see how strong Louis is from that smile, “And you don’t need to worry about that.”

“Lou.” Harry says, more of sighs out. He just wants to help.

Louis stands, then, patting Harry’s shoulder on the way, “Rest well, yeah, Curly?”

Harry watches him leave.

~○~

“Y’ alright, lad?” Nick asks as a greeting as he plops down beside Louis. They’re out in the campus, using their free time to do stuff before getting back to class. Louis’ got a book with him, reading intently and not wanting to be disturbed, “Tommo, sometimes I forget you’re a nerd.”

“Explains why I have more potential in you.” Louis retaliates, eyes still trained on the pages. He’s also got a notebook with him, taking down notes.

Nick tries to peek, “What are you reading, anyway?”

“Nothing you can understand.” Louis deadpans. 

“You’re so sharp today, man.” Nick scoffs, “Well, it’s been like a week since you got laid, explains why.”

Louis’ pen stops, and he instantly glares, “I’m gonna go, and you won’t follow me.”

Nick watches in amusement as his best mate grab his big book and walk away. Hollering, Nick says, “Why’re you reading about cancer, anyway?!”

Louis ignores him. He makes his way to the library where he got the book from. He returns to where he got the book, skimming the pages before pushing it between the spaces.

“Louis?” Louis sees Harry, making his way down the short ladder before stepping towards him, “Uh.. good afternoon.”

Louis smiles, “You, too, Curly.”

“What were you reading?” Harry glances the shelf next to them where Louis put the book, “Healthcare?”

Louis shrugs, “Just a little research. Homework.”

Harry doesn’t look convinced, but he nods nonetheless, “Okay. I’ll.. see you at home. Gotta get back to work.”

Louis leaves the library. The word ‘home’ digs itself into his mind. It’s probably impossible to call their flat a home, but hearing Harry say that, Louis takes it as a compliment.

~○~

“Where are you going?” Harry asks from where he’s sat in front of his painting, which had a really good progress after a few days.

Louis’ dressed, maybe more than he would than his usual attire going to the bar. His guitar isn’t perched on his back, too. Maybe he’s going out?

“Out.” Louis answers, patting his pockets to check them.

“Oh.” Harry puts down his brush, “Do you want to.. eat dinner first?”

Louis offers him a smile, “I can go three—“

“—days without food, I know.” Harry stands then, twisting his fingers together in a nervous habit. He stands in front of Louis, “Uh.. I’m really sorry.”

“For what exactly, Curly?”

“For the way I-I’ve been acting.” Harry supplies, “The past week. Like.. ignoring you and all that.”

“I’m not innocent on my part, as well, H.” Louis shrugs, “We were drunk and all that. No one’s fault.”

Harry nods, then, “Yeah.” He smiles, chest feeling much lighter. It doesn’t stop him from returning back to his usual shy aura, though, “Okay uh.. have fun, then.”

Louis feels endeared. Everything about Harry is endearing, right from the moment they met, “Wanna come with me? Come on.” It takes more coaxing on Harry’s part, but eventually he nods and changes out of his messy clothes after making sure his painting won’t be harmed.

In the bus, Harry’s sat by the window, bopping his head to an imaginary music. Louis smiles, “I’ve always been curious,” He starts, earning Harry’s attention instantly, “What’s your painting about?”

“My.. painting?” Harry asks, a blush making its way on his cheeks, “Uh.. it’s.. a drowning person.”

“A drowning person.” Louis repeats.

“A point of view of that drowning person.” Harry clarifies more, fiddling with his fingers, “Uh.. me? I guess.”

“You sure about that?” Louis teases. He nudges his elbow into Harry’s, “Well, whoever it is, I can already see it being a masterpiece.”

Harry smiles down at his hands, “I’ll make sure to put it up when I do my own exhibit.”

“And don’t ever sell it.” Louis tells him firmly, “You’ve sold enough of your works already, and they must’ve meant so much to you.”

“Oh, no.” Harry shakes his head, “This one’s special.”

When they step out from the bus, Louis leads the way with Harry trailing beside him. It’s only a short walk before Louis enters a food place. Harry only follows him, questioning, “I thought we were heading out?”

As they sit down, Louis answers, “We are out.”

“Not—“ Harry purses his lips, “Like uh.. a club, or something.” He immediately realizes how rude he must be being, and he stutters out, “B-But.. this is good, too.”

Louis only huffs out a laugh, “Sorry for the disappointment, Curly.” Before Harry can panic any more, Louis adds coolly, “Relax. It’s my treat. Order anything you want.”

“Let’s split.” Harry determinedly says. From the look on his eyes, he doesn’t look like he’s gonna accept a no, so Louis doesn’t protest. He ordered some fish and chips while Harry went for a rice bowl, bouncing happily as he takes the first bite.

They talk, of course they talk, and they do it like they haven’t talked to each other for years. Well, that week without talking to Harry does feel like years. It’s probably one of the rare times Louis’ seen Harry talk so fast and animate.

“My sister, Gemma, would always always bring me back home these matching sweaters and socks for Christmas, yeah? Just... plain ridiculous.” Harry laughs at the memory, shaking his head. 

“Didn’t know you had a sister.” Louis points out. He wonders how she’d look like—a literal female version of Harry. Just as gorgeous, probably.

“I do.” Harry lifts his eyes up, an adoring smile on his face, “She’s working in America, only ever comes home during the holidays, really.”

“You miss her?” Louis asks again, because it’s a refreshing conversation—to talk about families. 

“Well, yeah. And Mum, too.” Harry shrugs weakly.

Louis feels his chest tighten, “Then visit home.” 

“I-It’s not that easy.” Harry shakes his head, sighing, “If only I was brave enough to face them.” He continues to eat, not wanting to look at Louis. He’s ashamed of himself, really. What kind of son wouldn’t want to face his mum? 

Louis’ quiet for the rest of the dinner, and Harry’s nerves are on edge, wondering if he did or said something wrong to make Louis feel off. After their dinner, they leave the place, and when Louis takes another bus instead of their usual one with the route home, Harry nervously asks him, “W-Where are we going, Lou?”

Again, Louis doesn’t answer as they find empty seats for them. For the bus ride, they both don’t say anything: Louis being too quiet, Harry being too nervous. He hasn’t been in this part of the city before, but it looked familiar. He trusts Louis not to get him lost. After taking the bus, they walk again. Louis’ walking ahead of Harry, keeping his hands shielded from the cold.

“Lou?” Harry asks as they stop by the street, waiting for the stop light.

Louis eventually sighs and looks at him, “You shouldn’t be scared of facing your family, Harry.” He looks back at the road, “And neither should I.”


	8. Chapter Eight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hiii happy mother's day to all mother's out there!!!

**CHAPTER EIGHT**

  
Harry follows Louis wordlessly, through the white halls of the hospital and the wide elevators and past waiting or aching families. He doesn’t want to ask more questions, just zips his mouth shut until Louis gives him the answers. They’d been in the reception earlier, with Louis asking for a Mark Tomlinson, telling the nurse, who looks surprised, as well that he’s the patient’s son, which granted him an easy access.

“The nurse...” Harry clears his throat as they walk down a hall, “She looked so surprised when you said—“

“My father’s a wealthy man.” Louis supplies, “A big business and all that.”

“I don’t recognize it.” Harry murmurs. Louis slowly comes to a stop at a room named 310, the room number the nurse gave him earlier. The nurse also said that his father would probably be there already, since the testing he was supposed to be having ended a few minutes.

Louis stares at the door like it’s the biggest weight on his shoulder. It probably is. 

“Lou, I—“ Harry hesitates, “Are you sure? I-I know this is..” He ends in a weak shrug. He doesn’t want Louis to be here when he’s not ready. Granted, a few days had passed already since that encounter with the woman, Louis’ stepmother.

Louis seems to deflate in himself, shoulders slumping and head dropping down on his hands. Harry immediately jumps into action. He wraps his arms around Louis and let the older lad lean his head on Harry’s shoulder as sobs wracked his body. Thankfully the hallway is empty apart from the few nurses going in and out of the rooms, but other than that, no one pays attention to them.

“Hey, hey.” Harry soothes, making sure to wrap Louis up tight, “L-Louis...” He doesn’t know what else to say, because absolutely anything can make a crying person cry harder, so he sticks to just hugging Louis as long as the latter needs it.

“I can’t.” Louis’ voice cracks, muffled against Harry’s neck. 

Harry just rubs his hand all over his back, rocking them slightly. When Louis comes down a little, Harry pulls away but keeps an arm around him. He leads them to the cafeteria on the same floor. Harry sits beside Louis, who’s beginning to wipe away his tears silently.

Harry just stares ahead, wanting to give Louis some... privacy. Eventually, Louis gives one last sniffle before saying, “Sorry.” His voice is rough.

“Uh—um...” Harry stands, not really thinking as he walks to the counter to get them both a water bottle. He pays for it and slides back in his seat beside Louis, who takes the bottle gratefully.

It was a quiet moment, just endless clicks and murmured chatters of the visitors around the place. Harry’s scared to speak first, because obviously Louis’ in a sensitive state and he doesn’t want him to be triggered.

Eventually, Louis says, “We shouldn’t have come here.” Harry turns to him. Louis has his eyes cast down on the bottle he’s fidgeting on his lap, “I thought I could do it.” 

“Everyone takes time, Lou.” Harry reassures.

“Well, he’s running out of time.” Louis sniffles again, wiping under his nose, “I hate him so much.” His voice is full of venom, but there’s a hit of sadness in his voice. A sob gets caught in his throat, and Harry pulls him back in, tucking Louis’ face on his neck and running a comforting hand on his arm.

“I hate him.” Louis chants quietly, breath heavy, “But I’m here. I fucking came for him.”

“Lou, hey.” Harry pulls back just so he can stare at Louis’ eyes. Without meaning to but certainly not regretting it, he pushes back Louis’ fringe from his sweaty forehead, “You came for him, you did. And that’s okay, yeah?”

Louis sniffles, refusing to reply.

Harry finds the courage to cup Louis’ face, thumbs pressing lightly against Louis’ jaw, “You were the one who told me that you rarely cry.” Harry remembers it clear as day, “That you always stayed strong, that crying is just an outlet for your frustrations, and you make sure you help yourself.” Harry remembers those words, and he’s learning to stick by it, “And... if you’re a hundred percent ready, I think your father would want to talk to you.”

Louis’ stopped crying now (thankfully, because Harry can’t physically take it), and he breathes through his mouth. Eventually, he looks down on his lap and says, “A phone call would be a good start...” He glances up a Harry, “... I think. I-I can’t do it now. I just c—“

“Love, it’s alright.” Harry softly says. He should’ve thought before the nickname slipped out, but Louis doesn’t seem to mind, “As long as you’re ready.”

“Louis?”

They both look up to see a woman, Sandra to be specific. Louis immediately straightens up, gulping. Harry puts a hand on his knee.

Louis stands up then, “Sandra.”

“You’re here.” Sandra sounds surprised. And she looks like she hasn’t been sleeping much, bags under her eyes and her skin looking noticeably dry, “I-I thought...”

“We visited a friend.” Louis lies smoothly, pocketing his hands.

Sandra glances at Harry, who stands up and nods politely, “Hi.”

“You’re not..” Sandra says to Louis, “..here for him? He’s awake, we can—“

“We’re fine.” Louis cuts her off. It’s sharp and snapping. He seems to catch himself, taking a deep breath before repeating calmly, “We’re fine.” Harry puts a hand on his back as comfort.

Sandra looks so so tired, and if she didn’t do what she did then Louis would feel bad for her. She takes a step forward, “Well, Can I.. Can I have your number then? Just in case something comes up.”

Louis looks troubled, battling the choices inside his head. Eventually, he nods. Sandra offers him a smile before fishing out her phone. Louis punches his number in slowly as if he’s still hesitating, but he finishes typing and quickly hands the phone back.

Their trip to the hospital ends shortly after that, with Louis saying a rushed goodbye as he grabs Harry’s hand before making an exit. As they walked, Harry kept his arm around Louis. His heart aches for Louis. 

~○~

After Harry got out of the shower, he was surprised to see Louis sitting on the arm of the couch, seemingly waiting. He looks small like that, fiddling with his fingers and shoulders slightly hunched. 

Harry asks, “Lou?”

Louis’ head snaps up, and he stands, “I just... want to thank you... for coming with me tonight.” He starts, “And I’m sorry. You didn’t have to see me like that.” For Louis, it was beyond embarrassing, but Harry’s just surprised he said sorry at all.

“You don’t have to apologize.” Harry insists, “You can cry in front of me, you know.”

“Yeah, well...” Louis clears his throat, “Thank you.”

He looks like he’s about to start crying again, “Y-You’re not gonna cry again, are you?” Harry asks, cautious. He opens his arms just in case.

Louis only gives him a small smile before shaking his head. Despite the denial, he falls into Harry’s arms. He doesn’t cry, but Harry can tell how broken he really is.

~○~

Nick almost chokes on his drink, slamming it down on the table. Louis rolls his eyes at his exaggeration, but Nick isn’t having it, “You talked to your father?”

Louis doesn’t want to repeat it; it only reminds him weak he is. He glares hard at Nick, deciding to just stuff his face with more sandwich.

“Alright, alright.” Nick swallows, “How’d it go?”

Louis huffs, “I told you, I went to the hospital but chickened out at the last minute.”

Nick doesn’t mock him like he totally would, instead stays serious, “... you suddenly decided to come to the asshole father you claim him to be. I thought...” Nick shrugs uselessly, “.. thought you didn’t want to see him anymore?”

Louis plays with the greens of his poorly tossed salad. Cafeteria food is honestly the worst, but the cheapest, so. He glances up at Nick, who’s surely expecting an answer. Again, Louis dismisses him, “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Alright, man. Just..” Nick purses his lips, “I’m always here for you, yeah?”

Louis doesn’t see Nick glance over his shoulder, “And apparently Harry is, too.”

Louis looks up at that. Following Nick’s gaze, he finds Harry in a short distance from their table, sitting with his own friends. He’s facing towards Louis, just occasionally glancing between his friends’ shoulder blades. Before their eyes can meet, Louis looks away.

“Mate, you have to tell me what the hell’s going on with you and that kid.” Nick says, ever so nosy.

“There isn’t.” Louis feels a bubble of hope in him, and his denial shuts it down immediately. How he managed to think that those words can contradict themselves in the future is beyond impossible.

“Bull shit.” Nick rolls his eyes, “You slept with him!”

“A drunken mishap, that is.” Louis deadpans.

“Doesn’t mean you can’t like him.” Nick retaliates.

Louis huffs, “If I say that I like the lad, will you shut the fuck up?” Despite how dismissive his words are, he feels his chest hammering. 

There’s silence between the two friends—Nick gaping and Louis rolling his eyes as he continues shoving the salad into his mouth to refuse more interrogation. Eventually, a slow grin spreads Nick’s face, “You... dog!” 

“You look overly ecstatic.” Louis observes. Nick has always been supportive of him, especially when it comes to his love and sex life. 

“Mate, you haven’t been with absolutely anyone.” Nick points out, “Sure, one night stands, but... you actually like like a person.”

“I’m not immune to... to love, Grimshaw.” Louis tells him. He glances over his own shoulder to see Harry sharing a laugh with his friends, dimples popping and smile bright. Yeah, Louis’ definitely not immune to love.

~○~

Louis has the prettiest blue eyes; Harry observes as he peeks through one of the books and through the shelf, seeing Louis read this particular book alone on a table. The book is about cancer once again, but this time Harry gets it. At first, he didn’t. His heart swells more for Louis. He knew how devastated Louis was, how mad he is at his father, but still had the heart to learn more about his father’s illness.

Louis’ reading the book so intently that he doesn’t even notice Harry staring at him like a creep. Harry doesn’t wait for him to look up, though, just curses himself and gets right back to work.

“Fancy a boy, doll?” Mrs. Larson, the librarian, says with a smile as Harry passes by the counter.

“U-Uh..” Harry tries his hardest not to glance where Louis’ at, “No no..” He ends with a nervous chuckle before scurrying away.

Liking Louis. Well.. that’s something he hasn’t given a long, thorough thought about. He sometimes catches himself thinking about Louis, even at absolutely random times. 

It’s just... Louis is someone who Harry doesn’t mind learning, doesn’t mind getting to know. And Harry thinks he’ll never get tired. There’s just something about Louis. Despite his coldness, well, towards other people, there’s much more to him. Harry’s lucky he gets to see more of--

Oh God, he likes Louis.

Harry shakes his head, blushing as Mrs. Larson stares at him expectantly. He’s still standing by the counter when he should’ve left ages ago.

Turning abruptly, Harry runs into somebody. And of course that someone has to be Louis. Lovely Louis.

“U-Uh..” Harry stammers, feeling his cheeks turn red.

Louis only raises an eyebrow, “You alright, Curly?” He’s holding his book, probably on his way to put it back.

“Yes y-yes.” Harry clears his throat, awkwardly gesturing towards the book, “I can.. take that back for you.” Harry just fucking wants to slap his own mouth sometimes. He’s lived with Louis for literally months and he’s still shy.

Louis only smiles, a teasing curl of his lips, “I can handle it.” He pats Harry on the arm before walking past him. Harry follows him with his eyes, turning around. He hears a light chuckle and sees Mrs. Larson with a smile as she checks out a book.

~○~

Harry enters the flat, looking around. He sees Louis standing in front of his still unfinished painting. He blushes, closing the door behind him. The sound of the door has Louis turning around, “Hey.”

“Hi.” Harry gestures to the painting, “How... How is it?”

Louis says, “It’s amazing. Make sure I’ll be the first person to see it when it’s complete.”

Harry toes at the ground, biting his lip to keep from grinning, “I promise.”

Louis peers at the bag in his hands, “What’s that?”

“Oh uh..” Harry clutches it, “Dinner. I’m... I wanna cook.”

“Hm..” Louis nods, “Alright, then. What’s the occasion?”

_To make you smile again_. Harry gulps, “Nothing... Nothing in particular.”

Louis chuckles, a light laugh, “Whatever you say.”

Louis ends up accompanying him as Harry works around their tight kitchen. Louis sits by the sink, handing some stuff Harry needs, and well, being what Harry needs. 

“Pasta?” Louis asks, tilting his head as Harry puts a reasonable amount in a pot of boiling water, “Isn’t that expensive, Haz?” He worries about Harry spending too much, since he saw how Harry broke down nights ago.

“Grocery’s on sale.” Harry informs, beginning to chop some onions and garlic for the sauce, “So I took advantage. It is cheaper than ordering take-out.”

“Well, thank you.” Louis says, “Next time I’m cooking for you.”

A clap of thunder startles them. It’s quickly followed by a quick pitter patter of the rain. Louis curses under his breath and heads towards the window. Sure enough, rain is falling hard. Louis instantly slides the window closed, locking it efficiently. He hates it when it rains, a complete inconveniency.

“Sorry about that.” Louis goes back to the kitchen and begins to look for candles and matches, “Just a warning. Soon enough the light are probably gonna go out.” It always happens. Before, Louis would just light a candle and wallow in the darkness. But Harry’s here right now.

“So uh..” Louis can sense Harry’s panic, “What do we do?”

“Nothing, Curly.” Louis answers, finding himself a pack of unused candles. He goes to his room to find his matches.

“Um like... evacuate or something?” Harry squeaks out from the kitchen.

“We’re having our dinner, Harry.” Louis’ successful with the lighter, and he leaves them on the table, “Just imagine it’ll be a fancy, candle lit dinner.”  
That seems to ease some of Harry’s tension as he giggles, nodding.

Hopefully he can finish cooking before the lights go out. He manages to plate their dinner before the lights flicker and gives up. Harry practically latches onto Louis, who only chuckles as he pulls out his phone to turn on his flash,

“Go on, hold this.” Harry follows, and he waits patiently as Louis lights up candles all over the flat, being careful to where they stood.

“Alright.” Louis eventually comes back, “Let’s eat that pasta.” He lights a candle in the middle of the dining table, sitting across from Louis. 

Their dinner, even with the thundering claps and flashes of lightning, was still as good as it can be. Talking with Harry, it’s... refreshing. Louis doesn’t even talk to anyone like that, even towards Nick. He never told embarrassing stories of his childhood or the fun ones, if there are, but here he is launching into a story back when he fell from a tree because he wanted to prove a point that he can fly with those shoes that has wings on it. 

“I did try to prove my point.” Louis concludes with a shrug, “But with a broken arm.”

Harry snorts, cackling loudly with his high-pitched laugh, “And a loss of pride, I assume?”

Louis scoffs playfully, “How very dare of you, Harold.”

Their banter continues on until the last twirl of their forks, then Louis takes the duty of washing their dishes. He notices Harry standing there, “You can go.”

“Uh.. I’ll help you.” Harry steps beside Louis, waiting for a dish to be passed or done with.

Louis raises an eyebrow, “Are you afraid of the dark or something?”

Harry frowns but avoids his eyes, “N-No.”

Louis smiles and nudges his hip towards him, “Alright, then.” A crack of thunder comes from outside, and Harry inwardly groans as he rubs at his ears, wrapping his arms around himself.

“I hated storms, as well.” Louis starts, squeezing the sponge with the soap, “Used to run to me mum every single time.”

Harry smiles. He can imagine it, a little Louis seeking comfort in his Mum’s arms, “Well, you don’t seem so scared anymore.” Louis hasn’t batted an eye ever since the storm started.

“Got used to it.” Louis shrugs, “When you’re on your own, you learn to be brave about some things.”

Harry blushes to himself, because here he is, practically crowding Louis’ personal space as he hides from the thunders and lightnings, “Then I should be ashamed.” He grabs the clean dishes Louis hands to him, putting them in the cupboard.

Louis side-eyes him, “You’re not alone anymore.” He unclogs the sink and wipes his hands.

Harry bites back a grin, “No, no I’m not.”  
Louis doesn’t answer, doesn’t move away, either. The candle from the sink and the dining table is doing justice to all his angles. He’s looking up at Harry, and Harry’s never seen someone as beautiful.

He feels like a magnet, those blue eyes pulling him in and in. He’s not aware of it until he finds himself much closer to Louis, their noses nearly brushing. Louis’ eyes flick down to Harry’s lips and he suddenly surges up, their lips finally touching. 

Harry can’t breathe, but he’ll kill himself if he pulls away now. His hands hesitate as he slowly brings them up to Louis’ sides, fisting lightly at his shirt. He feels Louis smiles against his lips before hands cup his jaw.  
Louis doesn’t know exactly how to feel, but he’s sure that it’s everything good, everything nice. The way their lips are moving is smooth and sensual. Harry’s the one to pull away, resting his forehead against Louis’. He’s got a mad grin on his face that Louis can’t help but copy. 

Harry’s still shy as he leans in again, slow this time. They share a sweet kiss—a kiss that says that they have all the time in the world. They peck softly, eyes closed and revelling in the taste of each other.

Bursting their little bubble, Louis’ phone rings from its place on the table. Louis ignores it, just because he can and he wants to kiss Harry more. 

“Your phone.” Harry giggles, lips brushing Louis’ as he speaks.

Louis rolls his eyes playfully, pulling away completely to answer his phone, “Hello?”

“Louis?” A woman’s voice says, frantic, “Is this you, Louis?”

Louis frowns, “Yes..” He looks back at Harry who looks just as curious, “Who is this?”

“Sandra! I-It’s your father..” Sandra breaks down into a sob, then.

Louis feels himself freeze, gripping the edge of the table, “What’s happening?”

“Just come here, please!” 

“I...” Louis looks back at Harry again, feeling helpless. Harry quickly goes to him, providing comfort by rubbing his arms. Louis closes his eyes and shakes his head. His hand rub over his face, “I’ll be there, Sandra.” He hangs up, then, turning to Harry and dropping his phone as if it burned him.

“What’s wrong?” Harry asks, “Lou?”

Louis leans back against the table, “My father, he’s...” He takes a deep breath but it still feels suffocating, “I gotta go to him.” He brushes past Harry to get to his room, quickly changing into some jeans and grabbing his hoodie. 

“You’re going to the hospital?” Harry asks from the doorway.

“I have to.” Louis replies shortly, moving past him again to grab his phone which was left abandoned on the kitchen. He goes to the door, about to leave when he suddenly remembers his wallet, and his keys. And his sanity, maybe. 

He curses an turns around, bumping into Harry. Harry holds him steady, then, “Hey, hey.” He soothes, “Calm down.”

Louis runs his hands all over his face, breathing heavily, “I’m so scared.”

Harry nods, “I know. But that’ll never change unless you know, yeah?”

Louis releases a shaky breath and nods, “Okay, okay yeah.”

 


	9. Chapter Nine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the long wait!! here's a quite louis-centric chappie for you.

Louis stares at his father’s seemingly lifeless body in front of him. The man has wires attached to himself, machines all around him. Louis can’t take the sight, but he can’t look away. A while ago, they were bustling in this hospital room, doctors yelling commands and nurses fumbling with the equipment. Louis had been outside with Sandra and Harry.

“He’s really dying.” Louis says, more like a confirmation for himself.

Sandra, who’s been sitting beside his father’s bed, grabs the man’s hand, “It’s why he just wants to talk to you, to apologize.”

Louis stays silent. It suddenly feels cold. He looks down on his feet and shakes his head, “I’ll be outside.” He turns and pushes past the door. Harry’s sitting on the chairs out on the hallway, waiting.

“Hey.” Louis says as he sits beside him. Immediately, he turns so his cheek is against Harry’s shoulder. Harry accommodates for him, lifting an arm so Louis can hide his face on his neck.

“You alright?” Harry asks.

“Suppose.” Louis answers quietly, “I don’t get how I’m feeling.”

“How so?”

“Like..” Louis sighs. It’s good that Harry can’t see his face, “Should I be angry at him still? Or... or be happy that he’s gonna be gone.” He shrugs weakly, “I don’t know.” It’s like.. empty. He feels empty and just.. tired. He’s so tired of being angry, for having a heavy chest. But he can’t find it in himself to forgive. Is it too soon? Is it too long? The man who caused all this is dying and he can’t find any satisfaction from it.

“It’s not a matter of ‘should’, Lou.” Harry tells him after a few moments, “You do what you want to do, you feel what you want to feel. That’s... I wasn’t there when it happened, I don’t know the full story, but..” He grabs Louis’ hand, stroking, “It’s not gonna go away unless it’s free. And you’re keeping it locked inside your head, inside your heart.”

Louis squeezes his hand, “I wanna talk to him so bad. Just.. know why he did it, how he managed to live with it.”

“Your choice, Lou.” Harry soothed, turning his head to kiss Louis’ head.

Louis revels in the feeling. He’s been alone for years since he ran away and he’s been craving comfort. Harry’s just the right person to get it from. He sits up, placing another hand on top of Harry’s which was already holding his other one, “Thank you, for being here.”

Harry doesn’t answer, but he hesitantly leans in. He presses a soft kiss on Louis’ cheek. Again his strong will, Louis blushes.

“I can get us some coffee?” Harry offers, “We both need it.”

“Or you can go home.” Louis says, “It’s school night, Curly.”

“Can’t sleep in the dark.” Harry tells him with a slight shrug, “Might as well spend it here than scare myself the whole night.”

That makes Louis chuckle and roll his eyes, “Alright, coffee.” Harry smiles before he stands, making his way to the cafeteria. Louis watches him go until he rounds the corner, only does Louis run his hands all over his face and slump against the chair.

He hears a creak and he opens his eyes, seeing Sandra sitting on the seat two seats away from him. Louis stares at his lap.

“I know I should’ve said this.. a long, long time ago.” She says. Her voice is rough and scratchy and tired, “But I’m sorry.” She gulps, “Your mum died..” 

Louis closes his eyes, feeling his chest tighten.

“.. and admittedly I was at fault. And I’m sorry, Louis.” Louis looks at her. She’s looking right at him, eyes genuine and eyebrows furrowed, “I’m really sorry.”

Louis looks away, can’t stand at the weight getting heavier with every word she says, “I love your father.” She continues, “But it was horrible, what I did to your family, and I’m sorry, but I love your father.”

Louis buries his face in his hands, looking at the perfectly painted wall in front of him. 

“I know you’re angry at him.” She says, “But please, when he wakes up, give him one last chance.” 

Give him one last chance.

The words repeat themselves inside Louis’ head, bouncing around and taunting him. He wants to say that he gave plenty of chances, but he can’t find any. He’d turned down his father’s visits when he was at the orphanage with Beth. The man had went there a few times over the course of three years and Louis ignored him every single time. He reached out with the package containing his money every month ever since he found out where Louis lived. He never failed to reach out, and Louis never failed to turn him down.

Louis finds himself sitting beside his father’s bed a few hours later. Harry is as awake as him, resting on the couch inside the room while Sandra went ahead to guy buy food for them, a midnight snack she proposes.

Louis’ father is still asleep. Even with the amount of rest he’s getting, he looks extremely tired. Almost lifeless. Louis can only conclude one thing, “I look like him, don’t I?”

Harry startles from his voice slightly, blinking before he’s smiling, “Just a bit.”

Louis chuckles lightly and shakes his head. From the bed, he notices his father slowly wake himself awake. His finger twitches, and his eyes open themselves halfway, close again before opening them fully.

Louis stands, ready to call the nurse until his father is saying, “L-Louis?”

Louis sags back against the chair. He can’t find himself speaking. He gulps down the lump in his throat. George tries to reach for him, “Lou, my boy.” His voice is so rough like it’s craving for water.

Louis pulls away as his tries to reach for him, “I’m... I’m here.”

Harry stands from his place on the couch and puts a hand on Louis’ back, telling him he’ll be outside. Louis almost pulls him back, but he figures this is a time for him and his father. 

“Who... was that?” Fuck, he can’t even speak properly.

Louis clears his throat, in case it sounds just as rough, “He’s a friend.” He wants to correct his words, wants Harry to be his, “His name’s Harry.”

“Is he.. I-Is he nice to you?” His question makes it look like he thinks Harry is Louis’ boyfriend. Louis wouldn't mind.

Louis nods, looking down on his lap, “As nice as anyone can be.”

“Good.” George says protectively. Ironic, Louis wants to say, but he swallows it down. He doesn’t want to be petty or bitter. None of those things, “You still... living in t-that flat?”

Louis nods again. His father knew of his shitty flat, but never really made the move to visit anymore. Maybe it was because he was already sick or Louis was too busy pushing him away. Whichever’s worse.

George frowns confusedly, “I-I send you mo.. money.” He has to take a deep breath.

“I use it for school.” Louis informs.

“It’s.. not enough?” 

“I...” Louis gulps, “I donate some.. to the orphanage.”

If Louis’ not mistaken, his father’s dry lips slowly spread into a weak smile, but it quickly goes away, “Take care of y-yourself.”

“I do.” Louis tells him a few beats later, “You should, too, you know.” He gulps,

“Take care of yourself... I mean.”

“Too late for that.” His father chuckles. God he sounds like he’s dying. His laugh can be considered as weak hacking. He used to joke around, Louis remembers, before everything goes to shit. God, their family was... good. It was good. His mum would cook for them and his dad would tell lame jokes and Louis would go along. It’s like everything absolutely shattered when his mum got sick.

Louis doesn’t laugh. He looks down on his lap and fidgets with his fingers, “Five years since I ran away.” He tells his father quietly.

George is silent, until he says, “I.. remember.” He barely gets the last word out.

“I still remember every single thing you did.” Louis can’t look at him, “I was fifteen and I knew, alright?” He remembers his father’s denials whenever Louis would ask if they’re fine, the shrugs when the doctor asked him about his mum’s condition, the fucking sex noises all around the house while his mum fought for her life in a hospital. Louis doesn’t want to cry, but his tears fall anyway, “Why’d you do it?” 

It’s probably heartless, making a man who can barely breathe speak, but his father pushes through anyway, “I-I don’t...” George pauses, “..know, s-son.”

Louis runs his hands on his face, “Mum died for no fucking reason, then?” Bravely, he looks at his father, “That isn’t fair. You don’t... you don’t know how much shit we’ve been through because you’re too busy fucking—“ Louis cuts himself off with a sharp breath. 

“I don’t have a ... good e-explanation.” George takes a deep breath, “I-I’m sorry, Lou..is. Your mum... you b-both don’t de..serve that.”

_We really don’t_ , Louis thinks bitterly but he stomps it down, “Since when have you been sick?”

“Couple of... months ago.” George answers.

“Why didn’t you reach out, then?”

“You wouldn’t want to s-see me.” George says as if it’s the obvious answer. But he’s not wrong. Louis would probably slam the door at his face.

He agrees ashamedly, “I wouldn’t.”

Silence hangs over them, and it’s deafening. Every now and then his father would release a deep breath like it’s gonna be the last one he’s gonna take and Louis’ chest feels tight, “How do I forgive you?”

“You d-don’t have.. to.” George says hoarsely, “I-I just.. wanted to see.. you.”

Louis wants to forgive him, wants to move on from the past but he keeps thinking about his mother and how she died, how she battled and lost alone. 

“I’m sorry, Louis.” George says once again. He coughs once, and then his chest is wracking full with them. Louis immediately stands up, hitting the call button multiple times. There’s a machine beeping somewhere, and it’s driving Louis into more panic as George’s coughs overpower the room.

Soon, doctors are ushering him out. He gets pushed out and he stumbles into Sandra. He peeks through the window of the door. A doctor’s back is shielding part of his view, but as the doctor moves Louis catches a split second of his father’s chest. It’s gnarly and Louis wants to throw up. It’s like they’ve been throwing him into the operating room over a dozen times.

“Fuck.” Louis tears away from the door, pressing his palms into his eyes. He feels someone hold him and he sees Harry, “Harry, I—“

“Hey, hey.” Harry rubs his back soothingly.

“I can’t lose him yet.” Louis blurts out. He wiggles out of Harry’s arms and goes to peek into the window again before backing out at the last minute, letting Harry hold him again. He holds onto Harry, as well, needing something to ground himself, “Not yet, Harry, not yet.”

“Not yet.” Harry agrees instantly, “He’ll be alright.”

That somehow makes Louis cry more, “You don’t know that.”

“I don’t, but we all can hope, yeah?”

~○~

They’re in and out of the hospital the next three days. Harry had met George in between, standing with his hands behind his back as Louis stands beside him. It’s one of pure comfort, and Louis looks at the way his father jokes with the boy he likes. They go home each night and the first thing Harry does is pull him into a tight, tight hug. They do still work, because of course, they have bills to pay, but this time Louis’ the one initiating the calls to his father.

They’re bonding, and Louis doesn’t even deny it.

It’s becoming a painful battle for his father. Every day it gets harder for him to talk, to breathe, and even so he doesn’t fail to want to send Louis some money, or any financial support. Louis works harder, just so his father wouldn’t want to help him anymore when he should he helping himself.

Louis tries to be there as much as he could. He’d be leaning on his father’s bed, telling the stories about the past five years they were separated and... it’s refreshing. Even if Louis doesn’t fully acknowledge it, his actions show just how much he’s accepting his father back in his life again.

~○~

“You did amazing.” Harry beams at him as Louis walks down the stage with his guitar. His shift ended an hour ago, and he’s just simply hanging by the bar chatting with their bartender and watching Louis perform.

Louis smiles at him, wrapping his arms around Harry’s front. It’s a thing for them now, all the hugs and touches they can get, “Thank you.” He leans in to place a kiss on the corner of Harry’s mouth, to which Harry attempts to hide a blush.

And yeah, kisses, “Let’s go home.”

“Louis!” They both look over to see Billy walking over. He has a mad grin on his face, “I have good news for you, son.”

Louis furrows his eyebrows in confusion. He looks at Harry, who shrugs. He slowly untangles his arms from around Harry and follows Billy. The restaurant is mostly empty aside from a few picky eaters but there’s a rather well-dressed man on a particular table. 

The said man stands as he sees Billy and Louis approaching. Billy has his friendly face on, the one that gets him along with the customers, “And this is Louis Tomlinson. Louis, this is Lucas Bell.” Louis’ eyes widen.

“The Lucas Bell.” Louis confirms. He’s seen the man at least once in his life before. He’d given a seminar to all drama students back when they were all freshmen in uni and even visited some major plays in his school. He’s directed musicals, tv series and all that, mainly in the United States and... is this what Louis thinks it’s about?

“Yes, I am.” Lucas smiles, “Please, please. Have a seat.”

Billy leaves Louis after a shoulder pat, and making sure Louis was comfortable. Soon, Louis’ left alone with Lucas Bell and he’s staring over the man’s shoulder trying to get an angle on Harry. Harry’s simply watching him with a worried, but with an even confused expression.

“I’ve heard you sing, Louis, and I do have to say you have a very lovely voice.” Lucas starts, “You’re from... London University—“

“LUDA.” Louis confirms, nodding, “London University for Drama and Arts, yes.”

“Yes, well. You act?” At Louis’ hesitant nod, Lucas leans forward, and Louis’ breath is held, “We’re working on this show, a musical to be exact.” He raises a knowing eyebrow at Louis, “And we’re having auditions. This Friday, eight a.m. sharp. I want you to be there.”

Louis takes a breath too fast that he ends up choking. He coughs a few times, and jesus, this is only getting an invite for an audition, but fuck, he hasn’t acted in a show this major except for a few school plays. 

“No pressure.” Lucas assures him. He reaches into his wallet and pulls out a card, “You can call me for further details. Thanks for your time, Louis.” He shoots Louis a smile before he stands, straightening his coat, “I really expect you to be there.”

Louis’ left staring at the card, even when he’s on his bed at midnight. Harry is surely asleep, but Louis simply can’t. Should he takes this opportunity? He’s bound to embarrass himself, or something could go horrifically wrong. 

There’s a knock on his door, and Louis instantly knows it’s Harry. He immediately stands an opens the door. Harry’s standing there with his pillow and blanket folded into his side. Louis curses at himself. He should’ve kept the door unlocked, or wide open.

“Can’t sleep?” Louis asks, already pulling Harry in and closing the door behind the door. 

“Sorry.” Harry tells him.

Louis kisses him on the temple and settles him on the bed, sliding beside him right after. He pulls Harry into him after lifting an arm. Harry nuzzles his face into Louis’ shoulder, “Still thinking about it?”

“That’s an understatement.” Louis murmurs, eyes closed, “I’m stressing over it.”

“You’re gonna smash it, though.” Harry promises, as if he knows. But... anyone can expect.

“I haven’t acted like... on a professional show before.” Louis contradicts.

“But that man saw some potential in you, and that should be enough for now, yeah?”  
Louis opens his eyes and looks down at Harry. Lovely Harry, who’s been nothing but supporting and caring and comforting throughout the rough bumps lately, “Thank you.”

The lad blushes pink, nodding silently.

Louis wants to tell him, “I really like you.”

He feels Harry freeze, but soon the curly lad lifts himself up slightly to peer over Louis, “Really?”

Louis brushes a stray curl from his face. If getting attached to someone wasn’t his cup of tea before, it is now, “Really.”

“So um...” Harry glances down at his lips, “I can kiss you?”

Louis lifts his shoulders to kiss Harry, “You already did.” Their lips meet and Louis pushes him back gently until he’s laying back. Louis leans over him slightly, cupping his cheek. Harry’s hands is on Louis’ sides, trailing up his back before one hand grips Louis’ hair. Louis lets out a hiss at that, but only kisses Harry harder.

But he immediately slows it down, wanting to keep one of their first kisses to be soft and sweet. Call him a sap, but fuck anyone who says he can’t kiss Harry like this. Their lips slide together smoothly, and Louis moves his hand down to Harry’s shoulder. He strokes over his arm and slides it to his wrist, to his stomach. He slides his hand under the material of Harry’s shirt, keeping it on his bare skin.

Louis pulls away, then, resting his forehead against Harry’s. He brushes their noses together, “I like you so much, Harry.”

Harry giggles, a breathy sound, “I like you, too.” He places a sweet peck on Louis’ lips. 

~○~

It’s not shocking news that George died on the fifth day, but Louis still feels his breath taken as Sandra speaks the words to him. He was at work, with Harry still serving tables and him taking a short break when Sandra called.

“Hello?” He had said.

“Louis, he’s gone.”

He’d went straight to Billy, and the man didn’t hesitate to let him go and have Harry take his place. Harry almost protested, wanting to come with Louis, but the latter stopped him. 

Now, Louis’ back in the hospital, but his father’s body is covered with a thin white sheet. Louis’ almost afraid to look, wants it to be a different person even though it’s embarrassing. But Sandra’s crying, and she’s hugging the father all over.

It hits Louis, then. He didn’t say to his father that he was forgiven. Fuck, his father didn’t know, because Louis never told him.

“Fuck.” Louis curses, hands covering his face as he crouches down, body shaking in a sob. He can’t hold it in. He’s a proper idiot, and he should’ve done this a long time ago, when his father wasn’t sick or bloody dying. 

Louis doesn’t know how long he’s been kneeling there, but soon they had to wheel his father out and he can’t watch that. For the first time, he turns to Sandra who immediately takes him into her arms, rubbing his back as she cried as well, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

It was a blur after that. Soon, too soon, they were wheeling George out of his room. Louis almost wants to follow, following until the hallway but he’s pulled back. He looks over to see Harry. He’s still in his uniform and he’s sweaty and looked very tired, but Louis instantly feels relieved at his presence. 

“He’s gone.” Louis sobs into Harry’s uniform. He’ll wash it later, “He’s gone, Harry.”

He feels hands all over his back, rubbing and being the comfort Louis needs. 

His father’s gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you enjoy it!


	10. Chapter Ten

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the long wait!!! i was just basking in the last days of my vacation. i'm starting school tomorrow.

**CHAPTER TEN**

Harry looks over his shoulder as he stirs Louis’ tea. Louis’ on the couch, cuddling himself with Harry’s blanket and simply waiting. It’s been three days since George died and Louis’ coping with it... surprisingly well. Harry expected him to lock himself up or shut Harry or the world away, but here he is. 

It’s a tough three days. Louis did lock himself up right after they got home from the hospital, saying dull goodbyes to Sandra before Louis went straight to his room. He leaves the door locked and Harry only knocks whenever he’s giving Louis meals. The second day, Louis didn’t go to school but Harry found him on the couch sleeping when he got home. Harry simply kissed his forehead before getting on with his still unfinished, but mostly complete painting. It’s like walking on eggshells, but Harry copes with it well.

“Here, love.” Harry sits beside him. Louis instantly leans towards him, cupping his hands around the mug. He’s wearing a jumper, sleeves swarming his arms. It’s nearing Winter, and the weather is starting to get real cold. Harry smiles and he presses his nose to Louis’ hair.

“It’s gonna start snowing soon.” Louis murmurs. His eyes are trained on the window. It’s dark outside, granted it’s already nearing nine. They’d been given a week off from work because Billy said that Louis wouldn’t be in the right state to work and Harry should be there for him, “It gets really cold in here.”

“I’ll keep you warm.”

Louis huffs out a weak laugh. He turns quiet, then, as if he’s thinking hard, “I wanna move out.”

Harry chokes on air, sitting up and patting his chest a bit, “W-What?” He can’t stand the thought of Louis leaving. He’d be all along in this thing, and worse, without Louis. He doesn’t want to be alone again.

“Like, obviously it’s all falling apart.” Louis looks around, and yes, Harry agrees. There are stained walls, creaky floorboards, loose hinges, dripping ceiling and inadequate furniture. But to be fair, it’s been Harry’s home ever since he ran away, “What do you think?”

”Please don’t leave me.” Harry blurts out.

Louis gives him a small smile, “Who said anything about leaving you, love?”

Harry sags against him. Thank God. He really can’t deal with being alone right now. Sure, he’s earning enough for himself and he’s finally got a little bit of control in his life, but he doesn’t want to do it without Louis. Fuck, he’s in it too deep, isn’t he? He wants to talk to Louis about it, but the latter is still in an emotional state to think about anything else right now. Harry can wait.

His phone rings from the coffee table, breaking their little bubble. He grabs it, heart pounding when he sees it’s his Mum. He gulps before answering, “Hi, Mum?”

Louis perks up a little at that, but settles again.

“Hi, sweetheart. Was just wondering what you’re up to for today.” Anne hums. She’s gotta be cooking. She’s only truly happy when she’s cooking. He doesn’t know why she’d let herself be distracted like this.

“Nothing, nothing in particular.” Harry stutters a bit, “Still working on my painting.” At that, Louis smiles. Harry knows how the he lobes watching Harry paint.

“Oh, how’s that going?”

“Really good. It’s almost um... complete.” Only a few minor details, and he’s got to frame it. He’d be a week early for the submission.

“Let me know if you finish it, yes?”

“U-Uh, yeah. Of course.” Harry gulps. The more she talks, the heavier he feels. He wants to go to her, “Mum, I—“

“Oh! Oh!” There’s a clatter in the background, “Love, I’m sorry. The pot just toppled over, God,” She sighs heavily, “I’ll talk to you later. I love you!” The line goes dead. Harry wants to call her back, but he clenches his fist.

He distracts himself. When he turns back to Louis, the latter’s looking at him. Harry smiles lightly, “You have an audition, right? It’s two days from now.” 

Louis looks down on his lap, suddenly remembering the great offer Lucas Bell said to him, “I-I don’t know if I can do it.”

Harry understands, it’s too much to handle, “That’s alright, but are you sure, though? It’s.. it’s gonna be difficult to cope when you end up regretting it.”

Louis sighs heavily, “No... I really want to do it.”

Harry nods, “Then you can do it, you know.” He can see it so easily, Louis up on stage and wooing the audience, “Gonna smash it.”

“False hope isn’t nice, Curly.” The nickname is back, and Harry’s heart flutters instantly.

“So is being chicken.” 

Louis splutters, almost spilling his tea, “Wh—chicken?”

“Pok pok pok.” Harry begins to mutter, perfectly resembling a chicken sound.

At that, Louis laughs harder, “What even—“ Harry continues his chicken noises, pouting his lips firmly before acting as if he’s pecking Louis with a kiss. Louis pushes him away, giggling hard, “Alright, alright!”

Harry pulls back with a smile on his face. It’s good to hear Louis laugh again. The latter calms down a little. He puts down his tea on the table before he snuggles back into Harry. The curly lad welcomes his weight.

“Only you would encourage someone using chicken noises.” Louis snickers, playing with Harry’s fingers that are splayed over his side.

Harry blushes, “It’s kinda weird.”

Louis chuckles. He leans up and presses his lips on Harry’s. The latter jolts in surprise but he smiles, kissing back.

~○~

Louis stares at the paper in his hand, taking a deep breath before he glances at the long line of patient strangers waiting for their turn for the audition. It’s Friday, and he’d called Lucas yesterday to inform him that he’d be there for the auditions and the man was ecstatic. Although he looks a little busy now. Louis could only catch a glimpse of him behind the red curtain where the audition is being held.

He practices the lines inside his head, and he’s praying so hard he gets this role. He’d be a hopeful young father with a stressful girlfriend, so that’s that. It’s one of the leads, though, so he’s not gonna complain.

His phone vibrates in his pocket, and his chest fills with warmth when he sees it’s Harry, “Hey, Curly.”

“Hi!” Harry answers back gleefully, “How’s the auditions?”

“It’s a full house.” Louis murmurs, “There’s a guy practicing his lines behind me and we’re auditioning for the same role. I’m rusty as hell, H. I don’t know how to do this anymore.”

“Lou, you’ll never know until you try.” Harry hums and—it’s not his break yet, why isn’t he in class?

“Why aren’t you in class?”

“I am.” Harry says, “In the bathroom. Just wanted to ask about you.”

“Well, you already did, so go back to class, menace.” He smiles at Harry’s giggle,

“I’m gonna call you when I’m done, yeah?”

“Yeah, okay.” Harry says, “U-Uh.. I..” He clears his throat, “I’ll see you later.”

“See you, Curly.” Louis hangs up after that, instantly missing the voice of the boy. He has to focus on this audition though, so he’ll just shower Harry all his attention after it.

Louis barely winces at his thoughts, but it’s there. He’s grown fond of Harry through the months they’ve been living together and it’s nothing like he’s ever felt before. He likes the boy, he really does. Those curly locks and dimpled smiles and shy words are going to be the death of him. Harry’s been there for him even if he’s naturally difficult to get along with. Now, Harry had been by his side throughout the hardest days of Louis’ life and Louis can’t ever be more thankful.

Louis makes sure to keep him in mind as he acts out his lines in front of the director. He holds the script in hand, glancing at it every now and then to carry on with his lines. He even sings a part of a song used in the musical, and he silently thanks his years of singing practice when they nod subtly.

He gets a handful of compliments and a promise to get a call back. He leaves with a lighter chest. While on the bus, Louis sends a text to Harry. The boy wouldn’t be home until a few hours later. The bus passes by the uni, and Louis’ hit with the realization that he’d surely missed a couple of quizzes and—

Louis looks down on his phone. He sighs and dials Nick’s number. It goes to voicemail and Louis tries again. A few more rings and Nick answers finally, “So you’re alive.”

Louis slumps into the seat and looks out the window, “Barely.” He knows Nick is upset, having been kept in the dark while his best mate battles one of the hardest things in his life.

“You didn’t tell me anything. Harry doesn’t want to tell me anything unless you did. And all he does is say that you’re alright and all that bloody crap. Just...”

Nick sighs heavily, “I’m your best friend, Lou.”

“I know, I’m sorry.” Louis screws his eyes closed, “I just couldn’t handle telling the story over again. And Harry was there. I wasn’t alone.” Harry’s been there in every step.

It feels like Nick wanted to do more interrogating, but with a huff he says, “You going back this Monday?”

“Yeah.” Louis needs to keep his life back in track, and drowning in grief isn’t gonna help him. 

~○~

Harry looks up when a tapping of the microphone bounces through the place. He just finished taking an order from a table when it did. He’d been feeling awfully bored and just plain tired, but when he looks up the stage and sees Louis, his body feels like it’s just been lit. He grins and waves, probably startling the customers. Louis smiles back, though, with an added wink which makes Harry blush.

It’s nice to see Louis like this again.

After the job, Louis meets Harry in the backroom where all the workers’ locker are at. He’s slipping off his uniform and he jumps when he sees Louis. Louis only chuckles, watches as Harry practically trip over himself trying to slip on a new shirt. He’s wearing a blush on his cheeks after covering himself, “Hi.”

“Hello.” Louis replies. He leans against the locker next to Harry’s, slumping a little. He takes in Harry’s tired posture and raises a hand to stroke his hair, “Tired, love?”

Harry makes a sound, nodding before he grabs his bag and swings it over a shoulder. When he looks at Louis, he smiles tiredly, “Ready to go home?”

During the ride home, Louis lets Harry nap on his shoulder, lacing their fingers on his lap. He presses a kiss here and there, before he rests his head on top of Harry’s and decide to nap as well.

Louis doesn’t let Harry sleep on the couch, that is. When they get home, they do their own night routine of brushing their faces and teeth and whatnot. But eventually Louis grabs Harry’s hand and leads him to his own room, laying down before tugging Harry to him.

He’s fairly certain Harry would fall asleep as soon as his head hits the pillow. It is until Harry speaks into the darkness, “I wanna talk to my Mum.” 

Louis looks at him, sees Harry staring into the ceiling, “What do you mean?”

“Tell her everything.” Harry says after a beat, “I can’t keep lying to her. She knows I’m in a dorm and on my way to dean’s list and—“ He pauses, “I’m not.”

Louis finds his arm, sliding it up until he’s cupping Harry’s cheek, “You can tell her anytime you want, Curly.”

“And if she gets upset?” Harry sounds so small, and Louis can see how he loves his mum so much.

“Then she gets upset.” Louis says, “But what matters more is that you told her the truth, right?”

Harry’s silent, and then he’s scooting closer and resting his head against Louis’ shoulder. The latter accommodates him, lifting his arm and welcoming him in.

“I miss her so much.” Harry murmurs against Louis’ skin.

“I know you do.” Louis says. He feels what this boy is feeling right now. He, himself, misses his mum so much, every day. Ever since she died, he had no one to lean on. 

The next day, Louis wakes up earlier than usual. He leaves Harry on his bed as he slips on his shoes and coat to go out to grab some groceries. It’d be nice to wake Harry up with some breakfast, so that’s what he’s going to do.

When he gets home carrying a plastic bag of groceries, he passes by his room to peek. He smiles, noticing that Harry’s taken a liking to Louis’ pillow, hugging it close to his chest. He tries not to make much noise as he cooks, frying eggs on one pan and toasting some loaves of bread on the other. 

His plan of bringing breakfast to Harry sort of backfires, because he suddenly hears a, “Lou?” and when he turns around, Harry’s standing by the doorway, blinking at him tiredly.

Louis smiles sheepishly, “Good morning.” He turns back around to plate the eggs.

Harry plasters himself on Louis’ back. He squeezes then places a sweet kiss on Louis’ shoulder before stepping back, “Thank you.” He sits back on the chair, leaning an elbow on the table beside him. He watches as Louis maneuver himself around the kitchen, finding the lines of his arms fascinating.

The moment of silence and gentle sizzling of the bacon is interrupted when Harry’s phone rings. He goes to find it, digging into his last night’s trousers before answering the call, “Hello?”

“Harry!” His Mum greets, ever so lovely, “I have some great news for you!”

Harry continues to sit on Louis’ bed as he says, “W-What is it, Mum?”

“Your sister’s coming home for Christmas!” Anne says cheerfully, “It’s like the tables have turned for you two. She already visited this year, and you’re still a no-show.” There’s a teasing tone on her voice and Harry knows she’s just kidding but he can’t help the guilt seeping through him.

“I’m sorry, Mum.” He practically whispers.

“Oh, baby. I understand.” Anne assures, “What’s important is that you’re doing your best and that you don’t forget about us on the way.”

Never, “I-I’ll come by for Christmas.” He doesn’t regret it as he says it, even if that means a few more nights of extra hours at work for a ride home, “B-But mum I’ve got something to tell you.”

“Hm, what is it, darling?” She asks.

“I...” There’s a small crash in the kitchen and Harry immediately stands, “I’ll tell it later, Mum, yeah? Bye, love you.” He hangs up and goes over to the kitchen. He sees a small puddle of tea on the floor and a cracked glass which Louis is trying to pick up, “Hey.” Harry says, kneeling down across from Louis to help him wipe away the mess, “Are you okay?”

“Just.. hot water.” Louis grumbles.

Harry stifles a laugh. They enjoy breakfast anyway.

~○~

Harry stares at his phone in his hands. He’s practically trembling, but he knows he has to do this. He wants to come clean before he’d be coming home for Christmas. He didn’t want to ruin this any further. He’s sat by the window in their flat, having dragged a chair so he can lean on the window sill. 

As usual, his Mum answered as soon as possible. She’s probably done with dinner and just sitting around with her magazines or something, “Hi love. Why’d you call?”

“Nothing. Just...” Harry fiddles with his hand, “I miss you, Mum.”

Anne makes a sound, “We miss you too, sweetie. But Christmas is coming closer.”

“Yeah.” He takes a deep breath, “Mum, I have something to tell you.”

“Yes, dear?”

“I..” Christ, he doesn’t know where to start, “Mum, I-I’m not in my dorm.”

“Hm?” Anne asks confusedly, “You’re outside, then?”

“I’m not in any dorm.” Harry covers his face, “I live in a cheap flat with a roommate a-and I don’t have money on me to buy you presents. I-I don’t have any money at all and I’m failing.” He hiccups, “Mum, I’m sorry.”

“Harry, I don’t..” There’s a few rustles in the background, “Where is this coming from?”

“I lied, Mum.” Harry sobs into his hand, “I said I was doing well but I’m barely living out here.” He pauses to catch his breath, “A-And I didn’t want to tell you because I spent all my money t-the moment you let me take care of myself.”

“Oh, Harry.” Anne’s voice is carrying so much disappointment and Harry can’t believe t’s directed towards him, “How can you do this to yourself?”

Suddenly, everything feels heavy. He heaves a sob before the phone slips from his fingers and onto the ground. He leans his elbows on the sill and sobs, hands clutching his hair tight. 

Louis finds him like that, having returned from work and he immediately puts down his guitar to tug Harry in his arms, “Baby, what’s wrong?”

But Harry can barely speak. He buries his head on Louis’ chest, getting his shirt wet with his tears. Eventually, he stands to his feet and let Louis lead him to the bed. There, Louis lays him down and toes off his own shoes. He climbs in next to Harry and leans on the wall beside the bed. Immediately, Harry curls in on him. 

“Mind telling me what happened?” Louis asks, voice soothing as he wraps an arm around Harry’s shoulders, gently rubbing.

“I-I called Mum.” Harry sniffles. 

“Oh, babe.” Louis kisses his head, “How’d it go?”

“Horrible!” Harry cries out, digging his face further to hide his shame, “She sounded so disappointed in me, Lou.” He hiccups through his sobs. He fists Louis’ shirt.

“You know that won’t last long, Curly.” Louis says, voice low, “Haven’t met your mum but I don’t have to meet her to know that she loves you.”

“But she’s angry at me.” Harry sniffles, “I wasted so much.”

“And you’re working so hard to earn it back.” A hand cups Harry’s neck and he pulls back, looking at Louis’ eyes. He feels himself calm down just a bit, “You’re doing good, okay? Someone needs to remind you that. You’re amazing, Harry.”

Harry can’t help the whimper falling from his lips and he surges up to press his lips on Louis’. The older lad kisses back, pressing Harry close to him with the hand around his neck. Their lips move together smoothly, and Harry gets an overwhelming need to be as close to Louis as possible. He knees up and straddles Louis’ thighs. The latter looks surprised but it vanishes as he kisses Harry again, hand curling around Harry’s hair. Harry whimpers, wrapping his arms around Louis’ neck.

Louis pulls away then, peppering his kisses down Harry’s jaw then to his throat. He presses a tender kiss just behind Harry’s ear before he pulls away. He keeps his hands on Harry’s waist, keeping him on his lap, “Feeling okay?”

Harry feels extremely clingy all of a sudden, wrapping his arms around Louis tighter and just buries his head on his shoulder. Louis chuckles fondly, runs his hands over Harry’s back, “Alright, alright.”  
It’s good to be in Louis’ arms. 

~○~

“Hm, it actually looks good.” Louis smiles as he steps back to look at the four walls of their living room. It’s not much, just a simple wallpaper they’ve been working for the past few hours. It’s a little soothing to the eye; the pastel green. Louis had woken up to Harry cleaning their floors as some sort of stress-relief, shoving the couch and the table and the chairs to the corners. So what better is there than to buy some wallpapers in the nearby store and join him. 

“It does.” Harry giggles from his knees on the floor, clutching the wet rag on his fist, “Makes our flat look... less crappy than it already is.” And as he continues to scrub the floor.

And as Louis stands there, he can see how domestic they are already. It sends some sort of weird... feeling in his stomach. Harry had been nothing but a roommate to him in the start, then progressively became to be a part of Louis’ life.

They spend the whole afternoon like that, cleaning their flat for the first time ever. They sneak in some snacks after that, giggling as they sat on the couch and get pizza grease all over each other. They deem it finished as soon as the sun set. While Harry showers, Louis orders some Chinese, pulling out a couple of bills from his box and placing it on the table. He kisses a fresh Harry as they switch positions taking showers and Harry swats him and shoves him playfully inside the bathroom, escaping.

Harry gets dressed in new clothes, free from dirt and sweat. Their order arrives a few more minutes after that and Harry fishes the cash from the table and some from himself. He tips the delivery man before setting the food on the coffee table.

“Lou, food’s here!” Harry calls out, disposing the plastic bags.

“Calm your self, Curly.” Comes Louis’ muffled response from the bathroom.

There’s a knock on the door again, and Harry startles at that. The delivery guy probably forgot something. Harry stands to his feet again, pulling the door open as he gets to it. The moment he does, he’s frozen, hand gripping the doorknob. 

“Love, who was..—“ Louis’ voice says from behind him, dying down instantly before raising up with a renewed tone, “Who are you?” Despite him only with a towel around his waist, he goes to march up front just in case, but Harry shoots a hand out to stop him.

“Mum.”


	11. Chapter Eleven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> School has started and already stressful, not kidding. My homework was on my arse th whole week.

**CHAPTER ELEVEN**

  
Harry squeezes his fingers as he looks down on them. A cup of tea is placed on the coffee table and he looks up briefly to Louis, who gives him a private smile before leaving the room. Beside Harry sits his mum, her shoulders squared in a defensive manner. When Harry had opened the door earlier, she instantly gaped at him, seeing his state and a half-naked Louis behind him. It wasn’t a very nice moment. It took Harry a couple of beats to stutter out the words to invite his mother in.

She feels like a stranger now, and it’s his own fault. Her presence makes him want to shrink on himself and never return again. 

He makes the first move, gulping before he takes a deep breath, “Mum, I’m so sorry.”

Her reply is instant, “Why did you lie?”

Harry can’t look at her, “Because I didn’t want to disappoint you.” His chest feels uncomfortably tight, “I was sca—“

“And you think, by lying, you wouldn’t disappoint me?” Anne says sharply, “I can’t believe you, Harry. And—And living with a stranger?!”

“Mum, I had no choice—“ Harry can’t stop his tears, already prickling his eyes.

“And going home is not an option?” Anne almost shrieks.

“You have to understand.” Harry runs his hands over his hair, “Mum, I was scared.” He sniffles. He finally looks at her, and he’s surprised when he sees tears in her eyes as well, “I was the one who did this to myself and I-I’m scared of what you’d think of me.” He takes a deep breath, sob escaping his throat, “I’m sorry, Mum.”

Harry’s hands cover his face as he cries. This isn’t how it’s supposed to go, but he can’t picture his mother forgiving him, either. He’d turned away from the only person who could’ve helped him through this. His fear of this happening is becoming real and he can’t live with it.

“Oh, Harry.” Anne’s voice is much calmer, sighing deeply as she goes. Then there’s arms wrapping around Harry and Harry turns to her, embracing her back. Her arms always had the feel of warmth in them, even though now he’s bigger than her and her arms could barely circle around his shoulders.

“I’m sorry.” Harry hiccups. 

“I’m sorry, darling.” She kisses his head, “I’m sorry I made you feel like you couldn’t come home.”

“It’s my own fault.” Harry sniffles, “Don’t blame yourself, okay?”

She pulls him back, holding onto his shoulders. She gives him a hard look, “Don’t do it again. You have to know that I don’t care if you fail or even get kicked out of college.” She seems to rethink her words when Harry quirks his eyebrows, “Maybe a little, okay, but honey, all that matters is if you’re safe, and if you’re eating three meals a day. That’s all I think about. And when... when you told me that you weren’t in a dorm, all I could of was where you were And were you okay.”

A wet laugh falls from Harry’s lips, “Of course.”   
She still has her worried look on her face, “And... this isn’t what safe is, Harry. I got out of the car and everything felt wrong.”

“Mum, it isn’t as bad as you look at it.” Harry says, “Although the first time I moved I was... a bit overwhelmed but it’s fine. I love it. I—“ He looks around, “We just got a new wallpaper, scrub the floor a little bit.” He chuckles a little.

“Who was that boy, Harry?” Anne asks, her voice much softer.

“Oh, he’s... he’s.” Harry hesitates, “He’s just a friend.” _Who kisses me because I let him and who I kiss because I want to._ He wants to say. He wants to admit that he managed to fall in love with this gorgeous boy over the span of months they were living together. But seeing his mother’s face, she wouldn’t want that. It would be too overwhelming for her.

“Really?” She asks again. There’s a hint of uncertainty in her voice.  
And thing is, Harry can’t say Louis is his boyfriend, because they never talked about it. And that they’re probably avoiding the truth when it’s right there in front of them. 

Harry nods and gives her a small smile, “Yeah, Mum.”

She gives a light smile back and hugs him again, “Okay.” 

“Um...” He stands, wiping his hands on his jeans, “Do you want dinner? I could order some, or we could go out?”

She looks up at him with this unreadable expression, “You’re not coming home with me?”

Harry splutters. He practically chokes on his tongue before he gulps it down, “I-I...” Instinctively he glances towards Louis’ door. He wants to go home, he really wants to but something’s holding him back and he’s letting it hold him back. 

“Harry,” Anne stands as well. She seems to sense his hesitance, “You don’t have to keep living here. I’ll get you a dorm or even a new flat, but not... not in here.”

“But...” _Louis_ , he wants to say. 

“I know it’s hard to.. leave your friend, but it’s best for you, okay? At least I’ll know you’re safe.” She cups his cheek. His face must be so distraught, because she sighs before offering a smile, “You seem to really like it here.”

Harry nods slightly. He gets his hope crushed, though, because she continues,

“I’ll give you some time to think about it. In the meantime, I can just look for any available dorms for you.”

“Mum, y-you don’t have to do that.” Harry stutters out. He really, really doesn’t want to leave. She can be persistent sometimes, especially when it’s for the wellbeing of her children. But this is Harry’s safe place—with its creaking door, and leaking ceilings, and Louis.

Anne doesn’t seem to see it clearly, “Just trust me okay, H?”

Harry does.  
~○~

Harry creeps into Louis’ room long after his mother left. It’s a hard thing to do, and he might’ve hugged her a tad too hard, but eventually she slips out the door and Harry’s left with Louis. Not for long, he thinks. He brings the uneaten food with him to Louis’ room. It’s untouched, meaning that Louis hasn’t eaten yet. Harry’s heart swells that Louis might’ve waited for him.

“Lou?” Harry asks quietly. He flips the light on and finds Louis on his stomach, facing the other way. He tries not to stare too much at the curve of Louis’ back. He puts the food down on the nightstand and sits beside Louis, placing a hand on Louis’ shoulder, “Lou, you awake?”

Louis turns then, opening an eye, “Hey.” 

Harry watches as Louis pushes himself up into a sitting position, crossing his legs and scrubbing his eyes. They look a little red, “You sleepy already?” Harry asks. He raises a hand to push back Louis’ fringe, but Louis clears his throat and moves away slightly. Harry freezes, and awkwardly pushes his hand back down to his lap.

“I don’t...” Louis takes a moment to look at Harry, “I’m not hungry. You can eat all that.”

Harry frowns, “Lou, you need to eat—“

“I’m fine, Harry.” Louis replies. He scratches at his shoulder, looking down, “You can eat outside.”

Harry feels a sharp pang in his chest, “Wha—Did I do something?”

To his relief, Louis lets out a chuckle, “Haz, I’m just sleepy. You can eat in here but I’ll go to sleep.”

Harry nods slowly, “You sure you’re not hungry? I can keep it in the fridge.”

“I’ll eat in the morning.” Louis promises. Harry won’t let him leave without eating.

“O-Okay.” Harry gets up and grabs the food. He’d eat in here like Louis said, but he’d cause too much noise. Louis only nods and goes back to laying on the bed, covering his head with his pillow.

“Uh.. Lou?” Harry gulps. He fiddles with his hands, practically crushing the bag in his hands. 

“Hm,” Louis says, still muffled by the pillow.

“Are we...” He suddenly feels stupid, “Are we okay?”  
Louis looks at him, before he’s sitting up again. He sits on the edge of the bed, looking absolutely cuddly with his messy hair and big shirt. He reaches forward to grab Harry’s wrist, pulling him until Harry’s standing between his legs. He puts his hands on Harry’s hips and looks up at him, “What’re you thinking?”

“That...” Harry looks down, “I think you’re mad at me.”

“That’s what you think.” Louis tilts his head, “Come cuddle with me after you eat.”

Harry eats his dinner as fast as he can. He throws the bag in the bin and places the leftover in the fridge. He gulps down a bit of water before he checks the door and the window. He takes a quick shower to get rid of the nerves. He peeks in Louis’ room once again, the light off and finding the boy on his back this time, staring at the ceiling. 

“Hi...” Harry says. He closes the door behind him.

Louis lets him slide into bed. Harry immediately curls in on Louis. His mother’s words are bouncing around his head. Will she really force him to move out? Leave Louis? He’ll miss him. So so much.

“How’s your mum?” Louis asks. He’s got his arm around Harry’s shoulders, curling down to his waist and softly rubbing over his shirt.

“She’s... great. Still in shock, I think.” Harry giggles lightly. He moves his hand to Louis’ chest. He wants to be even closer than Louis, as clingy as that sounds.

Louis’ quiet for a few moments that Harry begins to think he might’ve fallen asleep, “I really thought you were going to leave tonight.”

Harry’s chest constricts. Louis’ voice almost sounds pained. He buries his head on Louis’ chest, fisting his hand on his shirt, “I wouldn’t want to go, Lou.”

“You should.” Louis says, “This flat isn’t gonna save you from storms, Curly.”

Harry feels himself relaxing upon hearing the nickname from Louis’ mouth, “But you will.”

The hand on his waist stops stroking. Harry’s afraid Louis might let him go. To his surprise, Louis tilts his chin up. His breath hitches when Louis glances down at his lips before leaning down to kiss him. Harry kisses back instantly. Kisses with Louis are a rarity, so he’ll take what he can get.

He leans up on an elbow so he can kiss Louis better, his hand on Louis’ shoulder while Louis’ is resting on his back, the other hand cupping his cheek. Their kiss is slow and sensual. Harry tests the waters, dragging his tongue across Louis’ lips. Louis pauses, pulling back to look at Harry before leaning back in. He brushes his tongue with Harry’s, kissing him deeper. His hand have slid from Harry’s jaw to his arm, taking its time as it moves towards Harry’s side and to his waist. He hooks a hand on Harry’s thigh and lets it rest across Louis’ waist, almost straddling him.

Harry finds himself perched on top of Louis, their torsos against each other as they continue to kiss. Harry pulls back to rest his forehead against Louis’, and the latter continues to run his lips on Harry’s jaw and neck, making him shudder.  
A squeal leaves Harry’s mouth as Louis sits up, his hands on the skin of Harry’s waist under his shirt. He pulls away to gaze at Harry’s eyes. Harry blinks at him before hooking his fingers on the hem of his shirt to pull off. 

Louis cups his jaw, “You’re beautiful.” 

Harry feels his cheeks flush, and he bites down on his lip as Louis resumes his sucking on his neck. His hands are on Harry’s lower back, loving the feel of the smooth skin. He’d love to litter them with bruises.

“Lou, shirt.” Harry requests. It only takes a second to get Louis’ shirt off and abandoned beside them. He runs his hands on the muscled torso, especially the ’It Is What It Is’ tattoo. He’d seen Louis’ arms with the scattered tattoos and a few on his leg, and an occasional peek of this one. 

Louis directs Harry’s gaze back to his eyes, looking up at him with a hand on the back of Harry’s neck, “You’re sure?”

Harry answers with a kiss, his hand fumbling with the waistband of Louis’ trousers until Louis stops his hands. He almost whines, but it’s stopped with a gasp as Louis flips them over, pressing his back on the mattress. Louis’ on top of him now, straddling his waist on his knees. He takes a moment to throw off his trousers which leaves him on his boxers. 

“Lou.” Harry reaches for him, and when Louis’ kissing him again, he melts back in the sheets.

Louis positions himself between Harry’s legs, sliding Harry’s sweatpants down his legs. He places a kiss on Harry’s skin, continuing up to his knee, one on his thigh, another on his hip. Harry feels himself stiffening in his pants, feeling Louis’ breath so close.

“Harry.” Louis breathes out, “You know what we’re gonna do, yeah?”

Harry nods his head, so fast he almost breaks his neck. He kisses Louis again, pouting when Louis pulls away to dance his fingers on the waistband of Harry’s boxers.

Harry arches his back, “Please.”

Louis kisses his hip, “I’m gonna take care of you.” He keeps his eyes on Harry’s as he slides down Harry’s last piece of clothing. As soon as it’s completely off he looks down. And fuck, Harry’s gonna ruin him for others. He surely will.

“Beautiful, babe.” Louis looks up just in time for Harry to blush and cover his face. He’s got his cock right under Louis’ chin and he’s blushing. 

Louis doesn’t waste any time. He licks up at straight line on top of Harry’s cock, sucking the head lightly. He grabs it at the base, runs his tongue on the slit bubbling precome. He lets out a groan at the first taste of Harry. Above him, Harry’s whining, hands clenching on his sides. Louis gets to work.

He pulls off to lick at the underside before taking Harry deep into his mouth. Harry chokes on a moan, his hips nudging slightly into Louis’ mouth. Louis take it all. He starts to bob his head, making sure to keep his mouth tight around Harry. 

“L-Lou.” Harry whimpers. 

Louis pulls off and moves down, sucking Harry’s balls straight into his mouth. Harry gasps, and his hands finally find Louis’ curls. His legs bend themselves as Harry squirms, wanting so bad to keep Louis close. Fuck, his mouth is so good.  
With Harry’s leg bent, Louis gets an idea. He looks up at Harry, who has his head tossed back and lip bitten as he looks up at the ceiling. Louis grabs the back of Harry’s thighs and pushes them until they’re up on his shoulders.

“U-Uh, Lou—oh, fuck.” Harry gasps as a wet tongue slides between his cheeks. He feels another and Harry can’t stop the whimper from his lips, “Lou, your tongue.” 

Louis licks up Harry’s hole using his thumbs to hold Harry open. He sucks and licks, his ears revelling in the noises Harry makes. He manages to dip his tongue past the ring.

“Fuck fuck fuck—Lou, s-stop please.” Harry almost shrieks and Louis pulls away immediately.

“Haz?” Louis asks, immediately crawling up Harry’s body to check if he’s okay, “Y’alright, baby?” His heart is hammering. Shit, he’d gone too far.

Harry’s whimpering under him, but he’s got this dazed look in his eyes when he looks up at Louis. The latter looks down, then, finding Harry’s hand around the base of his cock tight. 

“Was close.” Harry shudders. He removes his hand so he could touch Louis, “Want m-more.”

Louis dips his head to suck a mark on Harry’s neck, “You worried me there, hm?” 

Harry tilts his head to the side, mouth opening into an ‘o’ as Louis continues the assault on his neck. He gathers his courage, hand sliding down so he can cup Louis’ cock through his boxers. Louis hisses on his neck and thrusts slightly towards Harry’s hand. It takes that for Harry to slip Louis’ boxers down, down, down before tossing it away.

Louis seems to love Harry’s neck since he looks he doesn’t want to leave. He moves to the other side and kisses at Harry’s jaw.

Harry giggles, “Are you taking revenge because of what I did before?”

Louis remembers that clear as day, how his body was literally covered in Harry’s marks. He loves that he can do the same to Harry now. He kneels between Harry’s legs, keeping the latter spread out under him. He’s beautiful.

“Maybe.” Louis replies with a smile before pecking Harry’s lips.   
Harry giggles again and chases after Louis’ lips. They met in the middle. They take a few moments to renew the swell of their lips before Louis pulls back. Harry can see his bare torso, and he runs his hands over it, feel his skin under his fingertips.

Louis reaches over to his nightstand to bring out some lube and a condom. Harry bites his lip as he watches Louis wet his fingers before bringing them between Harry’s legs. He leans over Harry once more, and Harry takes the initiative to keep his legs up.

“Good.” Louis nips at his earlobe as he circles his finger on Harry’s rim. He pushes in slightly and Harry releases a breath. It’s been a long time since he’s done this. 

“So good.” Harry breathes out. Louis begins to pump his finger in and out, Harry’s hips following the slow movement. Soon after, Louis slips in a second and Harry begs for a third. 

“Three, yeah? Gonna stretch you out good, baby.” Louis pulls his fingers out and they come back wetter and as a three. They moment they slip in, Louis begins to thrust them, curling and scissoring them.

Harry’s already in heaven, moaning into Louis’ neck as he grinds his hips down to Louis’ fingers. It doesn’t last long, because Louis’ pulling his fingers out completely before sucking them into his mouth. 

Harry mewls and reaches for him, slamming their lips together again. It’s rougher and more desperate this time, but eventually Louis pulls away to sit back on his haunches, wetting his hand before stroking himself.

“Me, me.” Harry pants. He sits up to stand on his knees before sitting back, bending down to take Louis’ cock in his mouth.

“Fuck—God, Harry.” The name rolls off so beautifully from Louis’ tongue and it only ammos Harry. He works Louis in and out of his mouth, sucking at the tip and twisting his hand at the base.

“Baby, baby.” Louis pulls Harry up and the latter pouts. Louis chuckles and strokes his cheek with his clean hand, “Let’s not get too excited, yeah?”

Harry feels his face heat up as he nods. He lets Louis lay him back again, and Louis hovers over him. Harry looks down, “N-No.. condom?”

“You want me to?” At the vulnerable look on Harry’s eyes, Louis continues, “I haven’t been with anyone, H.”

“Um.. A-Amanda?” Harry asks. He still sees the woman whenever he goes out of their flat, her eyes following him as if she could squeeze the answer to where Louis was at the moment.

Louis shakes his head, “Never bare.”

“Okay.” Harry nods, “Me too. Um... never bare.”

Louis smiles and kisses him again, “You’re beautiful.” He rubs his nose with Harry’s before spreading Harry’s legs wider. Harry wraps them around his waist, eyes only looking at Louis. Louis looks back at him, looking for any trace of discomfort as he presses in. The moment Harry winces, he stops, waits for a few beats before pushing in again. 

There’s a moment where Harry gasps out and pats Louis’ arm, “Wait, wait, please.”

Louis kisses his head, “You alright, love?”  
Harry takes a few deep breaths before he nods. He tugs Louis down to him so they can kiss, again, because Harry won’t ever get sick of it. As they do, Louis pushes in a bit deeper before stopping with a shudder, “Fuck, Harry.”

“J-Just wait..” Harry whimpers, his arms around Louis’ shoulders. Louis hums and sucks at his neck. He’s gonna have pearls all over his neck in the morning. When Louis’ satisfied, he kisses Harry’s cheek and pulls back. 

“You can tell me to stop anytime.” Louis says. Harry’s got his head lolled to the side, panting slightly. Louis cups his cheek, making him look at him, “Yeah?”

Harry nods, “Y-Yeah.”

Louis smiles. He starts to pull out, just a little before pushing back in. He hisses as Harry tightens around him, his fingers digging into Harry’s hips. He does it again, pulling out further before pushing back a little faster.

“Lou..” Harry breathes out sometime later, “God f-fuck..”

“Good, baby?” Louis sits up on his knees, steadying his rhythm. He pushes in harder, his hips slamming against Harry’s.

Harry gasps sharply, eyes rolling to the back of his head. He looks like art- head tossed back, lips swollen and red, neck littered with bruises, a little sweaty. Louis growls at the sight lf his boy before he goes faster. He hovers above him, placing a hand beside Harry’s head as he pumps his hips strong and fast.

“Shit, shit God!” Harry moans loud, practically ripping his throat, “Louis!”

His name is being blessed by Harry’s tongue, and Louis almost curses the day and night as he forces himself to pull out. Both of their chests are heaving, and Harry barely has control to look at him, “What’s wrong?”

Louis kisses along his chest. Harry’s heart swells. Louis seems to really love kissing him, “Nothing, baby. You’re perfect.” Louis places a sucking kiss into his nipple, making Harry yelp, “Wanna ride me, love?”

Harry nods, “O-Okay.”

They switch, and _oh_ , Louis loves this position already. He’s able to see all of Harry, and this is his favorite sight in the world. He runs his hands over Harry’s endless torso as the latter reaches behind him and aligns Louis’ cock back inside.

Louis groans as the heat surrounds him again, hips barely hitching to get deeper. Harry takes his time, but soon enough he’s sitting on Louis completely with his hands braced on Louis’ chest. Louis takes one of them and kisses the back of his palm, “Absolutely gorgeous, baby.”

Harry giggles at that, curls bouncing. He begins to move his hips and his mouth drops open before biting down onto his lip. He lifts up and slams back down, repeating the movement again an again until the bed is rocking. 

“Fuck, yeah.” Louis groans as Harry tightens around him. He grips Harry’s hips and thrusts his hips up hard. 

Harry gasps again, “Right there, L-Lou.” He curls in on himself, and Louis catches him. He places his hands on Harry’s arse, pulling his cheeks apart and continuing to thrust deeper inside Harry. The curly lad can’t stop his noises, and Louis doesn’t know if he wants him to ever stop as well.

“Close, Lou.” Harry whines. He begins to push back, his cock rubbing between their stomachs.

“Gonna come for me, darling?” Louis nibbles at Harry’s ear, “You look so good bouncing on my cock like that, sweetheart. Come for me, Harry. Come on, baby.”

Harry’s orgasm is abrupt and strong. He arches his back into Louis and moans into the ceiling. Fuck, he’s beautiful. The sight itself makes Louis groan and spurt inside of Harry.

Harry whimpers and lays completely on Louis. Louis lets him, running his hands all over Harry’s sweaty back. He slides a hand between Harry’s cheeks and slowly slides a finger inside. It’s all wet and smooth, and Harry whines against his chest. He pulls his finger out and pops it right in his mouth.

“You’re unbelievable.” Harry breathes out. 

Louis smiles and pats his bum, “Come on, gotta clean us up.”

He does just that. Harry’s all naked and warm and pliant on his bed and Louis’ never been luckier. He slides in beside Harry after, and the latte takes the space under his arm.

Louis cups Harry’s cheek. Harry’s eyes are shining, “You mean a lot to me, Harry.”

Harry nods. He almost tears up as he hides his face in Louis’ neck. He can’t utter the words back, knowing that he’d probably leave soon.


	12. Chapter Twelve

**CHAPTER TWELVE**

Harry stares at Louis’ retreating back, and soon hears the door shutting. He looks back at his food. It’s two hours before their classes start and Louis’ already gone. He’d been doing this as a routine in the last two weeks and Harry’s starting to feel weird. He had asked on the first day, and Louis said he just had something coming up. The second day, it’s the same excuse, and the third. On the fourth day, Harry asked to come with only to get a kiss on the cheek and a polite no. Whenever they go home after work, Louis would keep his hands to himself that Harry feels like he’s pretending he’s not there.

Harry doesn’t want to be the overly clingy ... boyfriend, but he can’t help it. It’s like Louis’ slipping away after every second they’re together.

It’s not helping that his mum is calling him every minute asking if this flat would be good, or if he’s made his decision even though she’s already sure to herself that he’d come home. Harry loves her, he really does, but every time he thinks of her, he always looks back at the boy he fell in love with.

But... it doesn’t feel mutual at all.

Harry tries not to think back the last time they did it, but felt himself wandering anyway. He’d felt so special that night- the way Louis showered him with kisses and praises, the way everything about it was warm and gentle. It’s like the moment they woke up, everything was shattered.

Harry tries not to get tears all over his food. He manages to get himself ready for school. He’s got his painting framed and ready to pass. Hopefully, it’ll do him well, something for his mum to be proud of. 

In school, Harry’s not able to catch a glimpse of Louis anywhere. The strain in his neck and eyes is getting worse every time he tries to look for Louis.

“Oh, Harry, this is marvelous.” His teacher, Mr. Joule, stares at the painting in awe when Harry finally has the turn to have it checked. He adjusts his glasses on top of the bridge of his nose, “This is one of your best works yet, Mr. Styles.”

Beside the painting, Harry flushes, “U-Uh, thank you.”

“Tell me about it please.”

“It’s...” Harry clears his throat, shaking the nerves out, “A-As you can see, it’s created in the first point of view, with the hand of a subject stretched out, like asking for help. He’s drowning, stuck in the deep water, and miraculously..” Harry toes at his feet, “Someone went for him.”

“Must be a real inspiration, whoever you’re talking about.” Mr. Joule says with a small smile.

Harry chuckles lightly and proceeds to tell his professor more about his project. He feels proud of himself, having crossed out another project and having a good grade on it. It’s a good day. 

As Harry finishes his presentation, he walks out with a lighter chest. He enters the cafeteria. He spots Niall and Liam instantly, but his eyes don’t stop wandering around.

“What’re you looking for, H?” Niall asks, beckoning the curly lad over, ”How’s the project?”

Harry smiles, “It was great. He really seemed to like it.”

Beside him, Liam scoffs and jokes, “Of course he bloody does. Bloke looks head over heels for you.”

Harry’s eyes widen, “What?”

“He’s talking about Mr. Joule, you twat, his professor.” Niall grumbles at his plate.

“Ah.” Liam nods in understanding, “Was talking about Louis, though.”

 _Head over heels for you._  The words bounce around in his head. Why don’t they feel true?

“Haz?” Niall asks, “What’s wrong, buddy?”

Harry gulps, “I don’t... I don’t even know.” He buries his face in his hands, the past two weeks replaying in his mind, how Louis brushed past him every single time, “It’s stupid.”

“Can’t stop you from telling us.”

Harry sighs, takes a deep breath. He hears a loud laugh and whips his head to the direction. A few tables away, he sees Louis in his own table with Nick. He’s laughing loudly and seems to be the greatest time in his world. Harry hasn’t seen that smile around him lately. 

With tears prickling his eyes, Harry stands up and leaves the cafeteria. He knows he’s being a tad over-dramatic and childish, but he can’t help it. How do you feel when the person you love downright ignores you right after a night of what Harry thought was special? He feels humiliated and stupid.

He finds himself in the bathroom, pathetically sniffling into his hands and seeking comfort inside the tight walls. He misses Louis. 

Maybe staying wasn’t the right decision after all.

Harry whines in his hands, sobbing harder. He’s probably freaking out whoever’s outside the cubicle, so he forces himself to take deep breaths to stop. He steps out of the cubicle after, washing his face and wiping it down. He’ll just have to hope that his eyes aren’t as swollen or red.

He skips the break entirely, texting a text to his friends about losing his appetite and going to class extra early to work on a homework. He grabs his book and goes on his way. 

His day passes as slowly as it could, making Harry suffer through the rest of it. After class, he doesn’t bother waiting for Louis like he usually would. He immediately hops on the bus on the way home. It’s an early schedule for him today, so he’s a few more hours until work starts, but as soon as he hits home, he changes out of his clothes and grabs his uniform. 

~○~

“A full house, H.” Tom passes by him, an empty tray pinned under his arm as he pats Harry on the shoulder as greeting.

Harry likes a full house. It’s better than just lounging around and doing nothing. He changes into his uniform greets Billy with a salute once he catches sight of him.

It’s a matter of an hour when Billy comes to him, pulling him into the kitchen with a confused eyebrow, “Is Louis coming be here? It’s five minutes ‘til his time.” He gestures towards the stage.

“I-I don’t know. I haven’t been texting him.” Harry shrugs. Louis hasn’t texted either. 

“Ten minutes and he’s not here, you take the stage, alright?” Billy says before he’s out. Harry takes his phone out to check if Louis’ texted him. There’s nothing.

Harry begins to worry. When he gets back out to serve more customers, he worries. When he changes out of his top and into another, he worries. When he steps onstage and doesn’t see a particular boy with blue eyes, he worries. It nags him even after he steps down from the stage and Billy praises him for a good job and a promise of a raise. He packs his stuff and leaves the restaurant.

~○~

Harry’s walking up the stairs to his and Louis’ apartment when he hears voices inside. He furrows his eyebrows, and then his heart rabbits against his chest. There’s someone inside their apartment, and there’s a high chance that Louis’ there, too or they’re getting robbed.

Harry hurries through the remaining steps and hurls the door open, chest heaving. He freezes as soon as he sees Louis on the floor and a few of his friends beside him. There are drinks and trash around them.

“Harry, hi!” Nick greets. He raises a bottle and smiles.

“Uh... hi.” Harry closes the door behind him slowly. Louis looks up at him, eyes slightly hooded. 

“Sorry for the mess.” Nick says apologetically, “Lou didn’t tell you he’ll have us over?”

Harry opens his mouth to speak, that no, he hasn’t spoken a single word to me all week, but Nick cuts him off, “Oh! Well, this is Lou and Zac.”

“Hi.” Harry waves to the unknown two. He should probably leave now, but that’s his space. Ever since Louis stopped talking to him, anyway. He glances to Louis’ room. He looks back at the owner, “L-Lou, I’ll be in your room.”

Louis doesn’t answer him. Nick only gives Harry a smile before not-so gently hitting Louis on the back of the head. 

“What the hell, mate?” Nick asks once Harry is inside Louis’ room. Well, it’s their room.

“What?” Louis blinks at his bottle. 

“What’s gotten into you?”   
Louis looks back at the door of his room. He tries to come up with an answer but nothing comes out because he doesn’t really know if it’s reasonable enough. There’s something irking at him whenever he looks at Harry and it’s not good.   
Louis ends up shrugging as an answer.

He stumbles in later to his room, grabbing a fresh shirt to change into and stripping out of his trousers. He takes a moment to compose his tipsy mind before he sits on the bed. He stares at a sleeping Harry. The latter is on his stomach, taking up most of the space of Louis’ bed. Louis doesn’t mind any of it. 

He ends up lying on his side, facing Harry. Harry’s curls are messy and on his face, so Louis reaches a gentle hand to brush them off. 

“You drive me crazy, it’s ridiculous.” Louis whispers. He watches for any movements, “I love you.” He says, admitting it to himself as well. He’s loved Harry since he began squeezing himself into Louis’ miserable life, “But right now I just feel like I’m holding you back from everything you’ve ever wanted.”

And everything Harry wanted was home. Harry wanted to go home to his mum the moment he stepped out of it. He wanted to pursue his art, wanted his mum to be proud of him. Now, he’s almost got it, but he rejected his mother and Louis can’t see why the hell he’d do that.   
L

ouis let Harry in with the thought of pity for him, with the thought that he’d let the curly lad stay as long as he paid rent and until he could live on his own. But right now, he doesn’t ever want to let Harry go. He wants Harry to be with him, to earn enough money so they can move into a better flat and graduate.

But Louis can’t do all of that. He’s already a mess of himself as it is. He can’t possibly make that dream come true when he’s still stuck where he’s at for years. He can’t ask Harry to stay with him because he can’t take that risk.

He falls asleep trying not to pull Harry into his arms.

~○~

Harry wakes up to an empty bed. He doesn’t even try to hide the fact that it absolutely breaks him. He rolls into his back and presses his palms over his eyelids, trying to keep his emotions at bay. He just woke up and his first instinct was to cry. 

He manages, though, and as soon as he sits up his eyes are dry and he seems okay. He gets up and slips on some sweatpants, slipping out of the room.

The sight of Louis in the kitchen startles him, and the fact that he’s not rushing out just to avoid Harry is surprising as well. He’s in his boxers and a shirt, phone pressed against his ear as he stands by the sink with his back to Harry.

“Thank you, thank you so much. I—“ Louis runs a hand over his hair. He chuckles, then, “Shit, I still can’t believe it.” Another laugh, “I got the role?”

Harry can feel the happiness radiating off of Louis, and he himself feels pride bloom in his own chest from how proud he is.

But then, Louis’ shoulders droop, and he goes tense, “Can you repeat that, please?”

It’s silent for a few moments.

“New York.” Louis says slowly, as if the words are so foreign on his tongue. Chatters from the other line are heard, and Harry feels his stomach dropping.

“I-I...” Louis takes a deep breath and finally turns around. He jumps when he sees Harry by the doorway, and he clears his throat before walking past him and into his room, shutting the door.

Harry almost collapses as he sits by the kitchen table, pushing his hands through his hair and gripping his locks tight. New York, New York,  _New York._

It could mean a lot of things, Harry tries to reason. It could mean that it’d be just a thorough visit, probably meeting some producers and coming right back here. It could mean a few days or weeks of rehearsals. Or—

“Fuck.” Harry’s overreacting. Surely. But million thoughts are taking over his head and he can’t watch Louis go.

When he hears Louis’ door swing open again, Harry scrambles up to his feet. He follows where Louis is standing by the door, about to slip his shoes on. He’s leaving again.

“New York, Lou?” Harry’s voice comes out broken.

Louis freezes. He doesn’t look at Harry for a long time before he finally does. His face is blank and Harry’s heart breaks for the millionth time, “It’s none of your business, Harry.” He begins to turn, opening the door.

“No.” Harry surprises himself by saying. He walks over and slams the door closed over Louis’ shoulder. He pulls back then, not wanting to be too near to Louis even though it’s exactly what he’s needing. 

“No?”

“No.” Harry takes a deep breath, “You’re gonna tell me what exactly is happening to you, Louis.”  _With us._  

Louis’ shoulders goes tense, but his glare continues to be just as strong and icy, “What’s it to you, Harry—“

“It’s everything to me!” Harry cries out. A few tears slip from his eyes as he palms them off pathetically. He looks down on the floor, regaining his breath before he looks back at the boy who had hurt him so much by doing nothing.   
Louis looks shocked, the first emotion Harry has seen him wear in weeks.

“Do you not get it?” Harry sobs out, frustration and anger and panic all piling up. He runs his hand through his hair. He can’t control his words, despite them all tangled up in his throat, “I’ve stayed here, with you, for god knows how long, even after my mother begged me to come with her. And you just—“ Harry sniffles, gesturing at Louis, “I’ve been nothing but patient, Louis.” He swallows the lump in his throat, “The first time you touched me,  _really_  touched me, I thought we had something. I thought we can finally move forward. I thought you loved me.” Harry pauses a second to press his palms over his eyelids. They burn like hell.

“But you treated me as if nothing happened afterwards.” Harry continued, “You ignored me, you avoided me. I waited. I waited until you told me what’s wrong and...-. Is—What—was I bad in bed? Wasn’t I enough?  _I don’t get it!_ ” Harry ends with a maniacal laugh, “I’m driving myself insane because of you and you don’t even care!”

Louis’ looking at him, eyes wide and so so blue. He fishmouths, “H-Harry, I—“

“And now you’re leaving.” Harry says, as if confirming it for himself, “You’re leaving, aren’t you? Because you got the role and you’re gonna get more roles in more shows after that and you’re gonna forget about me eventually- a naive, unwanted, hopeless, idiot who just happened to fall in love with you.”

Louis’ face contorts into a frown, “Don’t call yourself that.”

“Why not?” Harry challenges, feeling fire in his stomach and his heart breaking at every word, “I am. Because you made me feel exactly that, Louis.” 

Hurt shows on Louis’ face as soon as the words leave Harry’s mouth. He makes a move to reach out but Harry steps back, shaking his head. He turns and heads for the bathroom, locking himself in. 

Harry doesn’t want to leave. It’s the last thing he’d want to do—leave Louis. Fuck, he loves him so much. He doesn’t even know when or where or how it started. He just looked at Louis and felt like everything was okay despite their low budget and endless noodles as their dinner. Even if walking out the door seems like the easiest thing to do, he doesn’t want it. 

He comes out later to an empty flat, and breaks down on the floor once again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> idiots.


	13. Chapter Thirteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> double update for you guys xx

**CHAPTER THIRTEEN**

  
“Love, are you alright?” Mrs. Larson asks, startling Harry from where he’s rearranging a few books.

He hadn’t realized he was just staring into nothing, “U-Uh, yeah. I’m okay. Sorry.”

She gives him a small smile before leaving him alone. He sighs as he leans his forehead against the bookshelf. There’s movement on the next aisle from what he could peek from the tops of the books and Harry freezes when he realizes it’s Louis. The latter’s back is turned to him, and Harry steps away from the shelf he’s leaning on.

Yesterday had been a shit day. After grovelling on the floor, Harry picked himself up and, as horrible as he felt, fell into his daily routine. He didn’t see Louis the whole day, even at work where he couldn’t give an answer to Billy explaining Louis’ absence. Harry spent the night on his couch, alone in their flat. Louis hadn’t come home.

Harry wipes his eyes as he takes the cart, fleeing from the section quickly. It isn’t a graceful exit, of fucking course it wouldn’t be. The wheel of the cart catches on the corner of the shelf where he’s about to exit, a firm thud sounding so loud in the silent library. Harry grimaces as a few books fell and he immediately bends to his knees to collect them.

A hand reaches out to help him and Harry’s heart skyrockets. He looks up to find a blonde guy who’s also bent down, grabbing the books that fell. The stranger catches Harry’s wide eyes, “Uh... hi?”

Harry snaps out of it, flushing a bit as he stands back up and dumps the books on the cart, “S-Sorry, thank you for that.”

The blonde only smiles and passes by him with his own book pinned under his arm. As soon as he leaves, Harry sees Louis staring, but still he’s facing the shelf. Their eyes meet, and this time Harry‘s heart beats faster at the right time. It’s only been a day but he misses Louis so much.

But then Harry remembers that they’re not in their best terms, so he ducks his head and continues to leave. He doesn’t see Louis reach out towards him.

~○~

Harry stares at his phone as it continues to ring. His mother’s name keep flashing on the screen and he rests his hands on his face.

“Something wrong, mate?” Liam pops out, holding his own tray as he sits down beside Harry while Niall sits himself across from them.

Harry shakes his head and shifts to turn off his phone. He’ll give her an answer later, “Nothing.”

“Sure?” Niall asks, raising an eyebrow, “If this is about money, I can—“

“I-It isn’t, really guys.” Harry says quietly.

They’re quiet after that. The chatters of the cafeteria distracts Harry from his own mind that he almost doesn’t hear Liam say something.

“Louis talked to me.” He says, staring ahead as he feeds himself.

Oh.

Harry gulps. He leans back in his chair. He wonders if Liam will continue if he pretends he didn’t hear.

Liam continues, anyway, “Said he’s sorry, and that he’s ready to talk now.”

Harry scoffs under his breath. Now Louis wants to talk, after weeks of ignoring him.

Niall, looking back and forth between the two, scrunches his eyebrows in confusion, “What’s happening?”

“He’s going to New York.” Harry closes his eyes. It hurts. It really hurts. Louis has been with him during his worst and now he’s leaving.

“Oh?”

Harry looks up just in time to see Liam and Niall glancing at each other with a look of pity on their faces. It’s no secret that they’re well aware their bestfriend is head over heels for Louis Tomlinson, can almost imagine his pain.

“He got this big role for a show.” Harry continues to mutter. He remembers it all still even after days, feels burning tears at the back of his head.

“And they’re going all the way to New York?” Liam continues to ask. He’s abandoned his food in favor of turning fully towards Harry.

Harry shrugs, “I don’t know. I just... he got called by someone and he said—“

“Wait,” It’s Niall this time, who looks confused and he leans more towards the table, “You two haven’t like... talked? This is big, Haz. Especially when you’re in a relationship—“

A sob pushes its way out of Harry’s throat, and he covers his face as his chest begins to tighten. He feels a hand on his back, and then a cheek to his head and he realizes Liam’s hugging him tight, ready to protect him.

“Shit, H.” Niall curses, obviously panicked for making his friend cry, “I’m so—“

Harry feels stupid all of a sudden. He’s here in the cafeteria filled with people, and one of them has got to be Louis, and Harry’s crying his heart out between them all. It’s getting ridiculous, because if someone said that he’d crying over a boy over and over again, he’d probably think they’re crazy. Now, he can hardly breathe from the lump clogging his throat with only one person in his mind.  
He ends up going home as soon as possible. Liam and Niall offer to go with him but Harry refuses gently, telling them that he’ll be alright, which he will be.

In the bus, he slumps low in his seat as he rests his phone on his ear, gazing out the window as he calls Billy to tell him he wasn’t feeling too well to go to work today. His boss tells him it’s alright, and that he should take care of himself more often. After the call, Harry’s thumb hovers over his mum’s contact, but he clicks off his phone and spends the bus ride in silence.

After getting home, he changes into more comfortable clothes. It’s getting a little chilly these days because it’s nearing Winter, and Harry would come home for Christmas with his mum and Gemma and all is gonna be well.

Harry sprawls himself on the couch, laid sideways and his head rested on the armrest. He’s restless, tossing and turning until his legs make Harry stand and start pacing. He walks to the window, sliding it open to let the cold wind in. He clutches his phone in hand, and then he presses it into his ear after pressing ‘call’ on his mother’s contact number.

“Harry, dear.” Anne’s voice is full of relief, like she’s been waiting all day and night for Harry’s call. Harry feels a surge of guilt when he realizes that.

“Hi, Mum.” Harry manages to keep himself composed. He turns and sits against the window sill, looking around his flat, his temporary home, “I’ve... I’ve been searching for dorms near campus.”

It’s a lie. All he does these days is work and study and drown himself in tears. He can’t even look at himself sometimes, how can he look at places that will mean he gets to leave this home soon?

“Oh! That’s great, darling.” Anne says, sounding pleased. And Harry basks in that tone, wanting nothing more but make his mum proud, but then he remembers he just lied once again.

“Yeah, yeah.” Harry releases a breath and looks down on the floor.

“Well, maybe we can check it out some time, yeah? Just text me when and—“

The knob of their front door suddenly turns and Louis comes in, seemingly surprised of Harry inside their flat actually here and conscious. The only times he was here was when he’d sleep, other than that he’d work and go home when Louis’ asleep.

Harry should leave the room, go outside or something, but when Louis makes eye contact, he finds himself stuck.

“—really plan to move out soon, love. I’ve told you it’s not safe and—“

“Soon, Mum. I promise.” Harry says, promises, as soon as he takes his eyes off of Louis, who crosses the room to get to the kitchen. He hears water getting poured into a glass, “Maybe I can start packing when our winter break starts.”

Anne continues to chatter in his ear, but he startles when he hears a glass break. Before he has time to inspect it, Louis comes barreling in towards him before tackling him into a hard kiss, knocking the phone off Harry’s hand.

Harry doesn’t stop him, doesn’t even try to. He circles his arms around Louis’ waist and pulls him closer and Louis’s hands are firm at the back of his neck, pulling him in every single time an inch is exposed between them. Their kiss hurts, it’s rough and teeth and tongue at the same time and it hurts.

Before Harry knows it, his tears are rolling down like waterfalls, sticking to Louis’ cheeks and making their kiss taste more. Harry pushes him away, then, determined yet so unsure. He tugs at his own hair, rests against the wall as he breathes hard.  
“Harry...”--

Harry’s eyes snap open. He’s still leaning against the wall, with his phone laid abandoned on the floor. Louis is nowhere to be found, and it made Harry question if what happened was real or not.

He was probably hallucinating. Louis still doesn’t care.

Harry pushes himself from the wall, picking up his phone. He sniffles, not even knowing when did he start crying. He grabs his coat and wallet, stuffing the latter on his pocket as he wrenches the door open. Its hinges creak under the force. He slams it closed, and even you put a gun to his head, he won’t admit that he did it purposely just for Louis to hear with the hope of he will follow after Harry.

It doesn’t happen, and Harry ignores the sting.

He continues down the stairs. He doesn’t hear their doorknob turn and their door to crack slightly, with Louis peeking out to see Harry’s back.

Harry doesn’t know where he’ll go, but he knows that he needs to be alone before he screams. He settles for the park, sitting on a bench across a middle-aged woman reading her book while her dog try to catch her attention.  
He remembers the first time he’s been in this park, a hopeful student with the intent of selling his art for money. And Louis had been by the fountain, singing his heart out to strangers. Harry almost wants the memory to fade away, but it’s like the one of the only things keeping him going right now.

Louis had inevitably ruined him, in the simplest but worst way. It’s not always the best feeling having the love of your life forget your whole existence.

Wow, love of my life, Harry thinks incredulously. He’s said it before to himself, he’s sure, thought about it and felt so sure about it. Thing is, it’s not exactly difficult for Harry to fall in love. He’s passionate about things he love and he wouldn’t be ashamed of it. But now, he feels like the words just drive knives to his chest over and over. He looks at Louis and he misses him so much. He feels so far away now and the worst thing is, Harry doesn’t know what went wrong. He doesn’t know how or why it happened. They were good. They worked good together and they were there for each other. It’s like a switch flipped and Louis’ back to shutting himself out.

Harry wanted, still wants, to have something with Louis. Something concrete, something he can hold on to. What they have right now- it’s good but they didn’t talk about it. It was blurry and unofficial that sometimes Harry wonders if he has the right to feel these things, to feel pain when he can’t even call Louis his boyfriend.

Harry’s sat on the bench with his legs criss-crossed like a pretzel. He runs his hands over his face, sighing exasperatedly. He fishes his phone out of his pocket, dialing a number.

“H?” Gemma, Harry’s older sister, eventually answers, “What brings my baby brother to call? And right when I was about to stop procrastinating, mind you.”

Harry huffs out a laugh, “Miss you, too, Gem.”

Gemma must feel how dead his voice is, “What’s wrong, H?”

The smile slips right off Harry’s face. He leans back on the bench, his phone pressed to his ear. He’s getting ask what’s wrong, and all he could say is, “I met a boy.”

“Ooh.” Gemma says, “What’s his name? Wait, does mum know?”

Harry shakes his head, “No. I—“ He gulped, “His name’s Louis, and... he’s my roommate, right now.” Roommate, Harry scoffs, “And I-I kind of like him for a long time now.”

“Aw, Haz.” Gemma croons, “Well, why do you sound so glum? Does he not like you back?”

“That’s...” Harry chuckles hoarsely, “That’s kind of the problem.”

“Tell me, right now.” Harry hears a book slam on the other line.

“It’s not a big deal, Gem, it’s just.. complicated. I don’t know what he’s.. what he’s feeling right now like.. like he wouldn’t tell me as if I was a stranger.” Harry sniffles. Fuck tears, “I love him, Gem. I really do. And it just sucks.” He presses his free hand to his eyes, inhaling deeply, “I want to leave, I think.”

“Oh God, H..” Gemma’s voice truly sounds sorry for Harry. She doesn’t like this _Louie_ guy. What a good first impression, “You can leave, absolutely anytime you want, yeah?”

Well, that’s sort of the problem now, is it? Because he doesn’t want to, ever. But aside from that, he also knows that he needs this badly.

“I’m moving out.” Harry tells Gemma, “By winter break, I’ll be out.”

“Okay.” Gemma says. Harry talks to her more, asks about her studies and all and he immerses himself into her stories to get certain things and people out of his mind.

~○~

Louis enters the bar, his eyes immediately and helplessly scanning the place in search of the face he’s been constantly looking for. He feels his chest tighten and loosen at the same time. He spots Billy to say hello, and the latter grabs his shoulder.

“Is Harry alright, lad? He called me earlier, told me he wasn’t feeling quite well.” Billy asks, eyebrows furrowed in worry.

Louis feels a lump in his throat, because he doesn’t know the answer to that. Hell, they haven’t even said two words to each other.

“Y-Yeah, fell ill a little while ago.” Louis croaks out. He jerks a thumb towards the stage, “I’ll uh..”

Billy lets him go with a pat on the back and an encouragement for a good show. Louis spends the next five minutes crying in the back room, to set the mood right, he thinks sarcastically. His first song for tonight is Never Say Never by The Fray.

He tries not to think of the curly lad while he’s performing, only because he might make of himself onstage. But tonight his mind just keeps reeling back to Harry even if he tries to focus on the man’s obnoxiously large beer.

He heard Harry’s conversation with his mother earlier, and the boy had made it clear that he’d be moving out soon. Louis kept his feet on the ground, his hand clenching on the sink as he tries not to come out there and beg on his knees for Harry to stay.

But he really can’t do that now. He’s fucked up now, and he’s sure Harry’s given up on him. But that’s what he wanted, right? For this, whatever they have, to stop so Harry can see that he doesn’t deserve being with Louis when he can be so much more.

Louis chokes out his next words, bouncing between the room. The chatters stop and the audience turn to look at him. Some look mildly worried, some irritated, some not even caring. Louis clears his throat, absentmindedly wiping his cheeks—when did they even get wet?

He tries to finish the song, he really does, but after his terrible attempt, the dam fucking burst. He exits the stage, his guitar slung over his shoulder as he dodges the waiters and even Billy. He manages to duck into the back alley, leaning against the wall heavily. He removes the sling of his guitar from him and drops it to the ground, barely wincing at the scratches it will surely have.

It’s a few minutes when Billy finds him. While Louis thinks he’ll surely get fired, Billy shows no signs of anger. He’s more worried than anything, “Lad, what’s wrong?”

“I’m sorry, Billy.” Louis takes a deep breath, “Just... a lot’s going on right now.”

“Is it Harry?” Billy asks.

Louis gives him a weak smile, “No, no. I..” He gulps. He picks up his guitar, hoping to have avoided more questions from Billy.

His boss eventually sighs, “You take the rest of the night off, Louis.” He pats Louis’ shoulder, “Just take it easy for a while.”

Louis nods gratefully, “Thank you Billy.”

He feels guilty for not following Billy, but he swallows it along with the vodka he has in hand.

~○~

The first thing Harry hears when he enters their flat is groans. He frowns when he hears it, heart thumping at the thought of Louis having brought someone home, but he realizes the groans came from the kitchen. He’s almost afraid to go in, but he does. Louis is slumped over the table, mumbling into the wood. Harry comes closer hesitantly, and then he smells the stench of alcohol. He scoffs.

“Louis.” He takes Louis’ shoulder and shakes him.

“Don’t...” Louis slurs. He jerks out of Harry’s hold, “Don’t t-touch... me.”

Harry pulls back, then, feels the sting.

“Hav’ta.. home.” Louis coughs, “T-To Harry.”

Harry releases a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He steps back until he’s leaning on the counter. Louis is drunk off his mind, but here he is, rejecting all of Harry’s advances, thinking that Harry is someone else. All the while he’s mumbling about going home to him.

Harry pushes his thoughts away as he puts a hand on Louis’ shoulder, “Lou, it’s me.”

For the first time, Louis looks up. His eyes are bloodshot and he looks so, so tired, “’Arry?”

“Yeah.” Harry grabs his arm, pulling Louis out of the chair before draping an arm around his waist. Louis leans all his weight on him. He’s trying to walk, at least.

“Missed you.” Louis says, “L-Lonely Louis.”

Harry almost smiles at Louis’ silliness. He puts Louis down on his own bed, and the latter almost immediately rolls onto his stomach. Harry stands to leave, but he can hear the never-ending mumbles of his name coming from Louis.

“Miss you Haz...” Louis says.

Harry gulps. He gets down on his knees beside the bed and rests his arms on it. This is the closest Harry have ever gotten to Louis. He looks so beautiful. His cheeks and nose are red and his hair is as messy as it can get. His lips are a little bit pouted than he will let himself admit. He smells like shit because of the alcohol but there’s nothing Harry would want more than crawling into bed with him.

Harry doesn’t do that, though, of course not.

He only goes back to Louis’ room to put a glass of water and some aspirin on his table before he leaves. He lays back on the couch, gazes at the ceiling. He doesn’t know what’s happening to them anymore but what’s new? All he knows is that they’ve rendered themselves completely hopeless.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> three more chapters!!


	14. Chapter Fourteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 2 chapters left xx

**CHAPTER FOURTEEN**

There’s a strange pull in Harry’s gut as he climbed into the seat of his mother’s car. He only looks in the backseat to make sure his things are all there but he doesn’t look out the window. When he straightens in his seat, Anne looks over to her son, “Got everything you need?”

 _Not everything_ , “Yeah.” He nods. She gives him a smile and squeezes his hand.

When they drive, Harry keeps looking at his messages. He tries not to ignore how the last text he’s had with Louis is a month ago. There’s no text from him, but there’s a few from Liam and Niall. He replies to them. Upon typing, his phone vibrates. It’s from Louis.

_I really hope you’re happy Curly. X_

Harry certainly tears up at that. He almost wants to jump out of the car and run back to Louis, but what good would come from that? Louis wanted him to leave, so here he is. 

_“I-I’m gonna go ahead, Louis..” Harry says awkwardly, hovering over the doorway of the kitchen. Louis’ by the sink, stirring himself a cup of tea. Their winter break has officially started, and Harry’s been making himself busy packing up all his stuff. If he purposely left a shirt in the hamper then so be it. His other stuff is by the front door._

_To his surprise, Louis looks up at him with a smile. Harry denies it so bad, but his heart just begins to drum heavily. Nothing has changed much between them, really._

_To the weeks leading to their break, they just learned how to be civilized with each other, just skirted around and staring._

_“I’ll see you around then, Harry.”_

_Harry probably lost himself at that, because he launches himself at Louis in a hug, his arms around Louis’ neck. Louis hugs him back, tight and so sure around Harry. This is the closest they’ve been for a long time, and Harry can’t believe it’ll be the last._

The moment he steps foot back in his own home, he feels... different. He remembers their little collection of their family pictures by the wall leading to the kitchen. He remembers the flower vases his mum litters literally everywhere. He remembers that coffee table that he always smashes his toe into. This is his home, but he still feels homesick.

His Mum squeezes his shoulder as she walks by, carrying his duffel bag. He immediately takes it from her. He kisses her cheek as they depart so he can go back to his own room.

It’s still the same when he gets back. The bed shoved in the corner and his desk beside it. He drops the bag on his bed and pulls back the curtain, letting some light come through. Sighing, he lies on the bed, looking at his phone for the nth time. He opens Louis’ message and eventually he comes up with a reply.

_I hope you are too, Lou._

There’s so many things he could’ve said, but this is enough. He busies himself with redecorating his room, because he certainly needs it. He pulls the bed until it’s off the corner and replaces it with his desk. He has this old painting on his wall above his bed, and he removes it. He has a new one that’s way better.  
He stares at his room after. He even sprayed some air freshener, and he feels better afterward. His project, the one he completed in Louis’ flat, is hung up above his bed. He leaves the room eventually.

“Hey.” He says to his mum as he enters the kitchen. It’s far different from his previous one. His Mum is by the stove, beginning to cook up their lunch.

“Hi.” Her smile is warm and welcoming, “Wanna help me? You can chop everything.”

Harry immediately jumps to the chance, grabbing a knife. She’s making some sort of vegetable soup, something that he usually got in a can back before--

He really needs to stop thinking so far.

“I told Gemma you were coming home today; it’s best if you call her.” Anne says. 

Harry tries not to let his fingers chopped off as he sets to work the carrots. His last conversation with his sister got him crying like a baby, but to his defense he has all the right reasons, “Of course. We can skype with her over dinner.”

Anne seems satisfied with that, and she smiles and squeezes his arm.

~○~

“So... Harry left.” Is the first thing Nick says as he enters Louis’ flat. He notices the livingroom area empty from the curly lad’s belongings. Louis is currently sitting on the couch, a cigarette hanging from his fingers.

“Don’t say that like it’s a bad thing.” He says hoarsely.

Nick takes the seat across from him, raising an eyebrow, “It’s a good thing he left, then?”

Louis shrugs, lips pursed, “For him, yeah.”

Nick can see how gone his best mate is for Harry—right through his messy hair, his thick stubble, the smell of smoke, the smoke itself he exhales and inhales every now and then, “When did he leave?” He takes a brief look around the apartment. It’s not completely thrashed. Yet.

“This morning.” Ah. 

“But you look like he’s already been gone for a bloody decade, man.” Nick reaches over to pluck the cig from Louis’ fingers. He puts it down on the ash tray, “What the hell is going on?”

Louis continues to stare ahead, his eyes scarily empty. Eventually, he shakes his head and leans back. He’s staring at the ceiling now. He feels numb. He doesn’t know if he should be angry or hurt or happy or anything. He doesn’t know if he has the right to feel such emotions. He can’t be hurt by Harry’s actions because it’s his own doing that rendered them to this. He can’t be happy either because he just can’t. How can he?

“Alright.” Nick answers for himself, patting his own knees. He sees the look on Louis’ face and just-- “Jesus, you’re gonna make it big in New York, you know?” Nick sighs. He doesn’t sound particularly happy with the idea of Louis leaving but it is what it is, “Gonna be a proper actor and all that.”

Louis shrugs, then, “If it all works out.”

He hopes, God, he prays it will all work out. It’s all he’d ever wanted for himself—to be successful and happy and content. And Harry, he doesn’t forget to add.

But he can’t have him. 

“It will, you’re bloody fantastic at what you do, Tomlinson.” Nick says, like he’s trying to punch the words into Louis’ head, embed them where they belong.

That night, Louis’ thumb hovers the send button with a short _goodnight x_ prepared and all typed in for Harry. It’s originally longer, much friendlier - _friendlier_ , but Louis’ thoughts are messing with him that even this, a text as short as ten characters, is going to pass off as _i miss you terribly, and im wearing a shirt i found in the hamper that is surely not mine because it’s too big and smells like you, but im wearing it anyway because i miss you._ So no. He deletes it all and focuses at the task at hand- sleep.

He wakes up at five in the morning with coffee and four hours of sleep running his system. He gets up, anyway. He finds himself going to the window in their livingroom, dragging a chair and lifting his legs up and through the window sill.

He watches the sun rise, feels its ray blast against his face. It wakes him up a little to get up, dress in more appropriate clothes and wash his face. He grabs his stuff on the way out, and manages to catch the bus.

When he gets there, the kids aren’t outside. But the other adults are, working on cleaning the front yard. Louis knocks on the door. He can already hear Beth before she opens the door, but her voice fades when she sees Louis. 

Her smile widens, soft and warm, “Oh Louis.”

Louis greets her with a hug. He’s led inside, and he feels his inside turn with excitement. He doesn’t know if the kids still remember him, but he wouldn’t mind introducing himself once again, because this he can’t let go.

The kids are having breakfast, all circled around a large table with their respective plates and messes. Louis does a mental head count, spotting all eleven children.

“Louis!” Jorge squeals. His hair has gotten shorter now, but he’s still as chubby as Louis remembered him, “We missed you!” 

He gets swarmed with the kids instantly, and he pats himself in the back when he manages not to burst into tears right there. He finds himself in the garden minutes later, were the kids are absolutely everywhere. He’s sat on a bench, just watching everything unfold when Beth takes the space next to him.

“They’ve missed you so much.” She says.

Louis feels his chest ache, guilt spreading over him, “I-I’m sorry. Everything just got busy that I didn’t have the time—“

“You don’t owe us anything, love.” She says. She takes his hand gently, “If anything, we’re the ones who should be paying back for all the help you gave us.”

Louis’ shaking his head before she even finishes, “I-I don’t ask you to do that. I’m willing to help as much as I can.”

“We know, darling, we know.” She soothes, “But now, it’s time for you to take care of yourself, yes? I... I heard the news about your father.”

Louis nods slowly, “Y-Yeah. I.. I spent his last days with him.” It was a few of the best and worst days of his life.

Beth smiles at him, her eyes filled with such raw emotion, “I am so proud of how strong you are, Louis. You’ve been through so much. Y-Your Mum is proud of you, I’m sure.”

Louis chuckles, “Yeah.”

She sighs warm-heartedly, “You really are an inspiration to these kids.”

And there it is again- the guilt. He knows he will be leaving for New York in a few months’ time, and that means not being at able to visit as much here, or worse, never. It’s one of the reasons that still pulls him back.

“I got in a show.” He blurts out, “Like... a proper show, a tv—tv show. and we’re gonna be doing rehearsals and such and.. it’s my first professional show.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful, hun.” She smiles, wide and genuine.

“It’s in New York.” Louis’ voice shakes slightly.

She must’ve sensed the tension in his voice. She squeezes his hand still, her smile still present, “We’re happy for you, Lou. We really are.”

~○~

Harry and his mum are in the living room, having eaten dinner and Gemma on the laptop over Skype. She’s in her dorm, looking extra tired as she laid on her stomach. She’s smiling, though, “Good to see you, Haz.”

Harry squirms, because the last time he talked to her he was bawling over a boy, “Hi Gems. How’s school?”

“Horrid.” She gestures behind her where her desk is, littered with books and papers, “But, winter break is soon though. I’m gonna hit you in the head so hard.” She teases, “Hi Mum.”

“Hi, darling.” 

And it’s good talk. Eventually his Mum yawns and announces she’ll go to bed. She kisses Harry on the forehead and another blow for Gemma before she leaves. 

“So?” Gemma asks, “How are you?”

Harry plays with the thread on his shirt, “Well, officially moved out of the flat.” And his life. Probably.

“You don’t seem happy.”

Harry splutters, “Gem, how..—of course I am. I’m happy to see Mum.”

“Don’t get your panties in a twist, calm down.” Gemma chuckles, “That’s not what I meant. I mean, you don’t seem happy leaving that guy.”

Harry shrugs, because he can’t deny that. He’s happy to be with his Mum, he really is. They’ve worked things out and they’re alright now. But why does Harry feel so lost?

“Have you not talked to him?”

“It’s still shit.” Harry chuckles dryly, “He.. told me he was happy for me and.. that’s all.”

“What a dick.”

“Gem.” Harry sighs. He leans back and runs a hand through his hair, “I don’t... I can’t put the blame on him. What if I was the one who did something and not even notice?”

“Then he should’ve talked to you, and vice versa. “ Gemma scolds, “I mean, It’s not my place but you’re hurt, H.”

Harry gives her a sad smile, “Does it matter now, Gem? I won’t be seeing him again.”

~○~

It’s not that easy.

Being together, in the midst of each other’s messes, is something they didn’t expect. They always thought they’d always be alone, left out, but eventually they found one another. They worked good—failed, at times, but otherwise, good. Their situation is not the most ideal but they know that they wouldn’t trade it for anything. Louis was glad he didn’t pay in a proper way that Amanda had to bring in Harry, and Harry was glad he was desperate enough to crawl in Louis’ flat. They didn’t fit well, but then again, they eventually did.

~○~

“That’s amazing, darling.” Anne praised, kissing the top of Harry’s head. He’s set up in the corner of their living room while Anne watches the telly from the couch. After three days of moping around the house, he eventually sat down and took his brushes. His mother had seen, and now he has little pieces of canvas loitering around his room.

“Thanks, Mum.” Harry smiles. 

~○~

“A little...” Nick measured just how little with his fingers, eyes squinting, “Just a little more, yeah? You need to like... act happy.” He received an eyeroll, “I’m serious!”

Louis rubbed his forehead. He’s standing in the middle of Nick’s dorm with the latter’s roommate in the bathroom. It’s almost the middle of the night and there’s a high chance he’ll either sleep on Nick’s miniscule couch (“You’d fit in it, Tomlinson.”), or get mugged on his way home.

He straightened the script in his hand, huffing. He tries not to think of Harry, even though the latter is the true definition of happy.

~○~

“Someday, I wanna have my own exhibit.” Harry said. He had his hands on his pockets and Gemma’s through his arm, “I’d rent out an art gallery and all that.”

They’re in an art gallery. Gemma had come home with these in hand and Harry could’ve cried. He’s been to galleries, yes, but it still excites him every single time.

Gemma smiled at him. He squeezed his arm, “Well, you better start painting, mister.”

Harry looked around him, seeing paintings against the walls and the artists’ names all clear and proud under it. Yeah, he had to start painting soon.

~○~

“Yes, sir.” Louis licked his lips. He’s sitting on his kitchen table with his notebook and a pen in his hand. Beside the notebook, his phone was sitting there with the speaker on, Lucas’ Bell heard clearly in the silent room.

“Make sure you get all that, yeah?” Lucas said, “I’m running late for a meeting. You have my number if you have questions.”

Louis leaned back in his chair, letting go of his pen, “Yes, of course. Thank you.”

He hung up and let his head rest on the table. In the notebook was written what will become his schedule, from the day he flies out and to the day the show is performed. It all felt surreal.

~○~

“Merry Christmas!” Harry hugged his Mum tight, his other arm bringing Gemma in. On their dining table rested their lovely, lovely dinner. They’ve spent hours getting ready, and now it’s time to get stuffed.

Harry let go of his sister and mother, shaking his hands with Gemma’s boyfriend, Matt. As they ate, Harry looked around the table, notices how little their family is, but finding no problem with it at all. He saw their smiles, and Harry couldn’t believe he managed to somehow survive without them.

He tried not to think of blue eyes.

~○~

“Ooh, a pillow!” Don squished the object to his face, wrapped and all. He looked at the giver, Louis, “I love it, Lou!”

Louis blushed, just lightly, “You haven’t even opened it, love.”

“But... it’s a pillow.” Don said, eyes wide.

Louis bit his lip to stifle a laugh. From beside him, he saw Lacy open up her own present. They’re in the living room of the orphanage, sat on their butts in a circle. They’ve eaten dinner, and the kids were excited to open their presents from Louis. Each child had a gift, and after they all opened it, they crowded Louis, hands behind their back.

“What’s this?” Louis asked, smiling.

The kids brought out individual drawings, one of each containing Louis as a stick figure. He put a hand on his chest, absolutely touched.

~○~

It’s back to college.

“Haz!” Harry whips around to find Liam and Niall waving at him. He grins, maneuvering around people to get to them. He greets them with a hug. It’s only been two weeks but he misses his friends a lot, “You cut your hair!”

Harry reaches a hand up to brush through it, blushing lightly, “It was getting long.”

“Well, you look good.” Liam pats his shoulder, a smile gracing his lips.

Niall clears his throat, and they fall into step on the way to their classes, “So... how’s your mum’s house?”

Harry knows where they’re getting at- it’s subtle but Harry notices it, “It’s home-y.”

They don’t question it any further, and Harry’s just thankful they manage to hold back. As they separate for their classes, Harry braces himself. It’s back to school, so he’s gotta study his ass off to move on up. The professors, of course, welcome their students back with fresh batches of projects, and Harry really does feel his presence after that. 

Harry gets a vacant after his three classes, and he spends it in the library. On his way there, he passes by the main bulletin board. He normally doesn’t pay much attention to the announcements as long as they’re not a big deal. 

But, he sees a familiar face.

 _Congratulations, Louis Tomlinson! A true actor at heart._

And then it’s Louis’ face with Lucas Bell’s poster on the side. The whole thing is just printed small, shoved in the corner, but it’s the first thing Harry notices and reads. He feels pride bloom in his chest, feeling so proud of Louis. He hasn’t seem him yet, and he hopes it stays that way. It’s only because he wouldn’t know what to do if he comes face to face with him right now. Not yet.

He leaves for the library with a smile. In the library, he continues his shift, greeting Mrs. Larsson with a hug and a small chat about her holidays. There’s a good feeling floating inside him as he restocks the shelves and arranges confusing encyclopedias. 

~○~

“Ah, there it is.” Nick points, a smug grin on his face. On the bulletin board, on the very side is Louis’ face beside a poster. It’s small, not really an eye-catcher, but Nick drags him anyway. 

“This is...” Louis cringes. He wants to open the glass and snatch the paper, “Awkward.” He looks around, wondering if anyone has even seen it yet.

“Well, it’s still true.” Nick shrugs. He swings an arm around Louis’ shoulder as they fall into step, “A true actor at heart.” He ends with a snort.

“Oh sod off.” Louis pushes him off, a smile gracing his lips, “I don’t even know how they found out.” Lucas probably gave a call. 

“Doesn’t really matter, it’s all there! Think Harry’s seen it?” Nick nudges Louis, quirking an eyebrow.

Louis almost wants to punch him in the gut, “I don’t care.” He argues weakly.

As they enter the cafeteria, he almost wants to go back out because of the many students. He powers through it, though, because he’s hungry as hell and Nick doesn’t stop dragging him. They find a seat eventually, and Nick takes Louis’ money so he can buy lunch for him as well. As he leaves, Louis’ eyes follow him.  
And upon following, his eyes land on Harry... Harry’s friends. Liam and Niall, right? Both boys are waiting in line, and no sign of the curly-headed boy he knew. That is, until Niall moved and the one in front of him faced him, where Louis could see it all.

Louis averts his gaze, breathing in deep. Ten seconds. Ten seconds.

He looks back. 

Ten...

The first he notices is Harry’s hair, or what was left of it. It’s cut so short that not even his curls are visible. It’s simply pulled back by wax or something. Either way... he looks good.

Nine...

His dimples are deeper than ever, which only means that he’s smiling even wider and he looks so much happier. It makes Louis copy him. 

Eight...

He’s wearing jeans, boots, and a big jumper that just swallows all of him. Louis remembers him wearing that.

Seven...

The rings on his fingers look absolutely strange, ridiculous, but Louis knows in the deeper part of him that he’d kiss every single one of them.

Six...

The way he laughs is still the same; a toss of his head back, a little clap of his hands. Louis wishes he’s near enough to hear how high-pitched it is.

Five...

His eyes are greener, shows much more with the color he’s wearing. 

Four...

The tip of his nose is red. Is he cold?

Three...

His cheeks as well.

Two...

Louis misses him.

One...

So much.

~○~

Harry grimaces at the taste of the macaroni salad, “Oh, I really don’t miss this.”

“You should’ve gotten the burger!” Niall bites down on his burger, “Much better.”

Harry pouts at his food. He spent two bucks on this, so he gotta swallow it all down. He manages half until he pushes his plate to Liam, who rejects it politely. Niall’s full with his burger, so Harr just leaves the unwanted dish on the trash.

The first day back is.. interesting. Nothing really special. Harry secretly hopes to meet a certain someone, and when that happens, he’ll consider it.

He says goodbye to his friends and goes to the bus. He takes a different route, and when he steps down from the bus, he smiles from the familiar bar. He goes over, happy to find it finally open. He’d gone over on the second day of his break only to find it closed. He learned that Billy had went to a long vacation with his family.

The bell chimes as he enters. The place is only starting to get busy because it’s only half an hour after it opened. He gets greeted by a past coworkers and he smiles back at them, asking one of them where Billy was.

“He has a meeting.” Matt says, “Only gonna take a few more minutes.” Harry nods, and Matt continues, “Really serves him right for that long vacation.” He jokes. He takes a quick look at Harry, “Are you gonna clock in..?”

Harry shakes his head, waving his resignation paper. He gets a pat on the shoulder. He hangs out by the bar as he waits for Billy. He gets himself some water. After Billy comes out, finally, he walks over.

“Harry, my boy.” Billy smiles wide, hugging him. They fall into step on the way to his office.

“How’s your vacation?” Harry asks.

Billy rolls his eyes, chuckling, “Too luxurious for my own good.” He opens the door and lets Harry in. He sits on his chair, leaning forward, “Matt told me.”

“Ah..” Harry nods. He pushes the paper to him, “I.. went back to my Mum.”

“That sounds great, Harry.”

“Yeah.” Harry grins, “Um... I just wanna spend time with her. I-I can visit once in a while.”

“Of course, of course. You can order in anytime you want.” He reaches over and grabs Harry’s hand, “I’m happy for you, Harry.”

Harry nods, squeezing his hand as well, “Thank you.”

He goes out, and Billy says something about actually managing his restaurant before he goes off his own way. 

“Good evening everyone.”

Harry stiffens at the voice, turning towards the stage. There, stands Louis Tomlinson himself. He still has his guitar, leaned against the wall. He looks much better than the last Harry’s seen him. He’s wearing some jeans, and a long-sleeved shirt. His hair is swept up, and his skin looks healthier than it has been. He doesn’t seem to notice that Harry is there, and he starts his set for tonight.

His voice is as soft as ever, better, like he’s been practicing. Harry bites his lip, sitting at the end of the bar where barely anyone sat because of the poor view of the bar. 

_“All I want is nothing more...”_

Harry closes his eyes.

_“Is to hear you knocking at my door. And if I can see your face once more.”_

“Jesus.” Harry releases a shaky breath.

 _“I could die a happy man, I’m sure.”_

Harry spends the next minutes agonizing the song, as well as what it could mean. After it ends, Louis sings four more. Harry stays for each one. Louis takes a break, then, standing by the bar to drink himself some water. He still doesn’t see Harry.

Harry misses him so much.

~○~

“Great job, as always.” The bartender says, smiling as he slides Louis a glass of water.

“Thanks.” Louis raises it before downing it. He looks back at the stage, where another performer takes some time on the piano. It’s only a matter of time before he goes back up.

It’s been an interesting day today. Everything feels so new even though he’s been doing the exact same thing two weeks ago. Except... with a curly head he stares at while onstage.

He feels someone step beside him, and he looks, heart jumping. Harry’s stood beside him, looking at the stage as well. He eventually looks over, smiling, “Hi.”  
Louis gulps, “Hi.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tbh this isn't my best work and it's quite obvious.


End file.
